


Heartbreaker

by TrioMaxwell



Series: Heartbreaker [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Breakdancing AU, Chapter Five is dedicated to ThunderDownOnGreenside, College AU, Learning to Dance, M/M, Near Future, Slow Build Fic, Survivor Guilt, mentions of Matsuoka Rin's father
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrioMaxwell/pseuds/TrioMaxwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in 2015. Rin is studying in Tokyo University.<br/>The Breakdancing AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Break Dance, Not Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this was written in February 2014, before Season 2 came out, there are some inconsistencies with the characters' behaviours.  
> It fits more with S1 behaviour.  
> I've decided not to change the story just to fit with S2.  
> I ask for your kind understanding, and hope you will continue to enjoy this story. ^_^ - TrioMaxwell

Rin hit the side of the pool with his palm, then tore off his goggles and looked at the large digital clock at the side of the pool. His heart sank.

 

Shit. _Shit._ He knew there was a reason he had dreaded to get out of bed and dive into the pool today. His time had not improved. In fact it was slower than his time yesterday, which had been slower than the day before and the days before it… _Shit._ He felt the cold iron weight of fear/dread/despair settle in his gut. It reminded him very much of the dark years he had spent in Australia, where his confidence and times had suffered and he came back to Japan with a serious hatred of water and an honest wish to quit swimming.

 

Until he had swum against Haru, then with the Iwatobi team in that relay that reconciled him with the water and rekindled his passion for swimming.

 

_But … It’s starting again. The dropping times, the feeling like the water in the pool had multiplied its viscosity to syrup for him alone, the desperate struggling and the hopelessness._

 

And it’s not something that could be solved by swimming with Haru or anyone in Iwatobi now; over the months that had passed, he had finally grown past his old limits while Haru had been content to stay the same; he couldn’t keep holding himself to the same old benchmark from his childhood forever. Besides, Haru was studying in the local college in Iwatobi, while Rin was away in Tokyo University.

 

Rin clung to the side of the pool, gritting his teeth, trying to get his shit together. _This is temporary_ , he told himself. _You’re just warming up. The next lap will be better._

 

Except that it was not. _It was about the same_ , he told himself. _No, actually, it was slightly worse._ And so were the other two laps after it.

 

Rin hit the water with his fists, a cry of frustration strangling itself out of his throat, echoing throughout the natatorium, warm salty tears sliding down his face to mix with the cool pool water. He was glad the building was deserted so early on a Saturday morning and it was the swim team’s day off, so there wasn’t anyone to see him fall to pieces here.

 

“Matsuoka?” A voice called out from behind him, freaking Rin out.

 

Well, _fuck_. Rin ducked under the water’s surface. Maybe the person hadn’t seen him in the water. But he hadn’t worn his goggles so he couldn’t see and he hadn’t taken a deep enough breath to swim away to the other end of the pool. Nevertheless, he held on till his lungs started to burn and he had no choice but to surface and hope that the person had gone away or that his eyes no longer looked like they had been crying.

 

Surfacing and shaking the water out of his eyes, Rin looked up to see Mikoshiba Seijuurou sitting at his starting block, looking down at him. Right. It had to be the ex-captain of his high school swim team, who was currently in the same team of the same university, who had witnessed all of his fuck ups in the second year of high school, witnessing him fuck-up again. He was even wearing his old Samezuka jacket and track pants, which gave Rin the oddest sense of déjà vu.

 

 _Has Mikoshiba ever witnessed me doing anything other than falling apart on my own?_ he wondered. _Life is unfair._

 

"Mikoshiba-senpai,” he barely stopped himself from calling him ‘buchou’. Old habits sure died hard. Mikoshiba was not the captain of this swim team… yet. But it was probably only a matter of time. Mikoshiba was already well liked and respected even among the upper-classmen and was sure to be identified for the post of captain when the time came. "What do you want?"

 

Mikoshiba smiled, warm, open and friendly, in all the ways that Rin wasn’t. “I want to talk to you. Come out of the pool for a bit.”

 

So, it wasn’t a coincidence that he was here. And even odds were, he knew what Mikoshiba wanted to talk about. Rin pulled himself out of the pool. It was his imagination, but the water was beginning to feel less like syrup and more like crude oil.

 

Mikoshiba let him grab his towel, pull on his windbreaker and settle on the bleachers before saying without preamble. “I’ve seen Coach’s records of your times. I know they’ve been dipping the past few weeks. What’s worrying me is how you’ve been dealing with it. You’re clocking too many hours of unscheduled trainings and your times are suffering even more. Haven’t you heard of recovery time? You’re doing too much.”

 

Rin stiffened at the thought that the coach and Mikoshiba had been talking about him. _What did they talk about? Did they talk about kicking me off the team? You shouldn’t be so surprised though,_ he berated himself. _I’d kick anyone with such crappy times off the team._

 

He looked away, letting the towel draped over his hair cover his face from Mikoshiba’s view. He mumbled, “I don’t feel like I’ve been overtraining. I feel like I’m doing too little.”

 

“Whatever you’re doing, your times aren’t improving.” Mikoshiba pointed out. “That means you’ve got to stop and rethink your approach.”

 

Rin gritted his teeth. Mikoshiba’s words were like acid poured on the raw and quivering mess that was his flayed self-esteem. He was in the middle of his “approach” now, dammit. He was assessing his techniques and trying out new drills, hence the hours of unscheduled training, and while he hadn’t found what it was he was doing or not doing that caused his time to deteriorate, he was still trying his damnedest not to give up. _It feels like everything is against me,_ he thought. _The water, my stroke, and now, Mikoshiba_ … he felt tears of frustration start to burn at the back of his eyes and he stood up to get away before he started bawling in front of his ex-captain.

 

Mikoshiba narrowed his eyes as he stood. “Where are you going?”

 

Rin ripped his towel off, feeling like defiance was the only thing left to him now. “I’m going to swim.”

 

Mikoshiba shook his head. “Nuh-uh, you’re not. You’ve been kicked out of the pool. And you’re not allowed into the gym.”

 

Rin was aghast and exploded. “Huh?! You’re crazy! You can’t do that!”

 

“Not me, coach’s orders. Any athlete knows that hitting a plateau, even a slump, is normal, but you’re not going to break out of it with all that negative energy you’ve got bottled in you right now. Coach says to take a day or a week off. Do something else. With me. ” Mikoshiba stated.

 

Rin stared at Mikoshiba like he was crazy. “ But I don’t have anything else I want to do.”

 

For some reason, Mikoshiba grinned.

 

“How about you learn how to dance in the meantime?”

 

————————-

Half an hour later, they were in the dance studio doing warm-ups, which was a miracle really, considering how unwilling Rin had been about it. Mikoshiba had bullied him out of the natatorium, into the showers and back to his student apartment where he was made to wear the track pants, dry-fit sleeveless running top and sneakers that were thrown at him. Mikoshiba was lucky that he was such a charismatic and cheerful bastard (and a vigilant one, or Rin would have skedaddled out of his clutches by now and probably be halfway to Samezuka to swim in their pool, alumni had privileges, dammit) or Rin would’ve decked him one (or ten) for being so intrusive.

 

And now he was being made to press his face down to the floor in a center split that was as painful as it was uncomfortable. It had been ages since he had done such exercises and his joints were screaming. Mikoshiba had insisted it was necessary though. Rin would have rebelled but Mikoshiba himself had completed the exercises with ease, showing a flexibility that seemed more in keeping with a gymnast.

 

“This is stupid,” Rin mumbled crankily. Mikoshiba hummed a pop tune cheerfully in reply and pushed him down some more, apparently having fun. _What a sadist._

 

Finally, Mikoshiba declared them done and sprang up to the sound system in its built-in cabinet.

 

"So, what do you want to learn? Tango? Salsa? Latin dance? Those are always popular with the girls," he asked while looking through the different tracks available.

 

"Harh?! I’m not going to dance anything that has you touching me everywhere, swinging me all over the place!" Rin knew he was in full bitch mode, but bloody hell, he was here against his wishes so why should he cooperate?

 

"That’s fine, I can do the girl’s part," Mikoshiba selected a track and put it in, unzipping his jacket to reveal a black racerback singlet.

 

"There’s no way I can imagine you as a girl, you nit. And I’m not going to put my arms around you." Rin looked away, scowling angrily.

 

"That’s fine too, cos I suck at either role,” Mikoshiba grinned as he pulled a black elbow guard up his left arm. “Actually, the only dance style I’m really good at is breaking,” he confessed.

 

"Breaking?" Rin had visions of destruction associated with that word, along the lines of baseball bats and shattering windows. It actually sounded pretty good to him, in his current state of mind.

 

“Break-dancing or b-boying. Explaining how it goes takes too long, it’s easier to show you instead. I’ll try to make it entertaining and let you see what you want to learn, okay?” Mikoshiba pressed a button on the sound system and a trancy electronic tune with a fast, heavy bass beat started playing.

 

 _Entertaining_ , Rin scoffed mentally, as he watched Mikoshiba start a set of moves, which seemed to consist of nothing but long strides in a circle and fancy footwork. _What the hell kind of dance is that?_ He’d humour Mikoshiba just for today so he’d get off his case and _holy shit, how did he do that?!_

 

Mikoshiba had dropped to a push-up position, then spinning and twisting through flares and air-swipes like a cat, to suddenly freeze into a handstand pose on his forearms, legs held out like in a kungfu side kick pose _except that it was upside down_. He then started a set of one-armed pikes, airchairs, bridges and platforms, one transitioning into another at an amazing speed, followed by a set of head spins and windmills, first slow, then fast, knee spins and this impossible move that involved Mikoshiba _going over backwards_ slowly from a three-point headstand to _freeze himself into a hollowback_ parallel to the floor, then changing to one arm to freeze into a one-armed jackhammer _all without his feet touching the ground_. It was nothing like Rin had ever seen and he couldn’t imagine all the upper body and core strength that Mikoshiba had to have in order to execute this routine. It was wonderfully raw, graceful and kinetic and all Rin could think of was, _could I do that?_

 

Finally, Mikoshiba jumped to his feet and saluted Rin, breathing hard and smiling elatedly at his success and Rin’s unguarded look of awe on his face. Rin realized his expression too late and replaced it with a scowl, but he couldn’t completely mask the interest from his body language.

 

“So, that’s just my style of breaking,”  Mikoshiba said, when the silence stretched a little too long. “You can have your own style once you learn the basic moves and adapt them according to your strengths.”

 

He watched Rin struggle with himself a little, before finally looking up at him and saying grudgingly, “I want to learn, if you will teach me.”

 

——————-

 

Rin dropped to the floor of the studio with a wince, sweating hard, his wrists, arms, shoulders, abdomen and back screaming in pain at the unaccustomed exercises. He hadn’t done anything remotely like Mikoshiba’s moves, having had to do drills first before Mikoshiba would let him do anything. So far, he had done sets of planking, one armed pushups, handstands, one-armed handstands, handstand pushups, planching and stand-alone capoeira flips.

 

He slid down to lie on his back and closed his eyes. Oh, it felt good to be horizontal. He felt like he had been tackled enthusiastically and repeatedly by the entire Australian rugby team and felt a certain amount of masochistic satisfaction in the knowledge that he would feel worse tomorrow. _No pain, no gain, right?_ He tried to move his arm so that he could remove the rubber band from his pony-tail, but decided that it required too much effort.

 

“You’re mad for doing what you did, but I suppose you’re doing really well for the strength exercises. I’m impressed,” Mikoshiba complimented him, sitting down beside him. “It won’t be long before you can do the moves on your own.”

 

Rin glanced up at him, wincing at the movement even though his neck and head were the only parts of his body that felt capable of even a limited range of movement. _This must be what it feels to be paralysed by fatigue_ , he thought. “You know, it’s rather pointless to keep me out of the gym when you still allow me to train as hard as this,” he pointed out, slurring a little, eyes sliding shut.

 

“This is much rather different from a gym workout, isn’t it?”

 

“Hrmmmm,” Rin exhaled, not really listening to Mikoshiba’s reply.

 

“Matsuoka?”

 

There was no response.

 

When Mikoshiba looked over at the prone redhead, he saw that he had fallen asleep on the hard floor. Mikoshiba looked down at him, his golden eyes softening with a wry, sad expression. He snagged his windbreaker from where he had discarded it and draped it over the sleeping boy who promptly snuggled into it. He watched Rin’s face as he gently smoothed the long fringe away from where it stuck to his face.

 

“Brat.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was researching for a Makorin fic idea where the Iwatobi club was curious as to why Gou kept disappearing after club activities so promptly and set out to trail her. Turns out Gou wanted to learn Latin Dance (possibly to add it to the Iwatobi SC training regime, haha), but overprotective big brother Rin wouldn't allow her to go alone and so brother and sister went to learn dancing together. And Makoto falls in love. Cos I really think Rin would make a good dancer.
> 
> While the idea of Rin being in Latin dance is cool, I thought breakdancing would suit him as well. Somehow though, Mikoshiba got involved and this is the fic that resulted instead. (What the hell, inspiration?!? So unrecognizable from the original idea. I even abandoned another Makorin to finish typing this out in about 6 hours.) Go figure.
> 
> For Mikoshiba's dance routine, I used this 2005 Breakdancing Championship video of Hong 10 from Youtube for reference. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wEx7-lHXtLE
> 
> Hong 10 is a S. Korean breaker that has a very very cool and smooth skill set. I just became a fan.


	2. Survivor's Guilt

Mikoshiba decided that he couldn't wait for Rin to wake up on his own before they left the dance studio; the boy had already slept for the past hour without moving at all. So, he gently shook the boy until he stirred, then pulled him up to a sitting position. The boy sat drooping, with his hand over his eyes, fringe falling all over his face, looking like an extremely hung-over college kid. "Matsuoka, get up, we need to get you back to your apartment."

 

Rin mumbled something unintelligible and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He didn’t seem to be able to open his eyes. Worried, Mikoshiba put a hand to Rin’s cheek and was dismayed by how cold and clammy it was. Mikoshiba considered the hours of exercises that he had completed earlier and berated himself. He was supposed to stop Rin from overtraining, wasn’t he? But then, Rin had been insistent that he could complete the exercises, his energy levels manic in his desire to continue, so motivated (in retrospect, desperate even), and Mikoshiba hadn’t believed that Rin was the type who would train till he crashed. Well, he knew better now.  

 

Mikoshiba sighed. "Never mind, get up. I'll get you home."

 

Mikoshiba locked up the studio and set off, guiding the boy who was practically sleepwalking beside him. After Rin stumbled for the third time before they had even left the campus, Mikoshiba decided to take him to his place instead as it was two blocks nearer. Rin could sleep off his fatigue there and he'd be able to keep an eye on him. Rin didn't even register the change in direction. The kid was really wiped out.

 

When they arrived at Mikoshiba's small one-room LDK apartment, Rin stood in the doorway in a daze till Mikoshiba gave him a change of clothes and pushed him into the bathroom where he thankfully managed to shower and change without mishap. When he left the bathroom, he was still more asleep than awake and didn't protest when Mikoshiba handed him a bottle of chocolate milk to drink, then pushed him towards the bed after he was done, where he crawled into it blindly and fell into a deep sleep. Mikoshiba shook his head, wondering if this was a regular occurrence with the boy.

 

Mikoshiba prepared dinner for two but Rin didn't manage to wake up to eat any of it. Alarmed, Mikoshiba went over to the bed to check if Rin was still breathing. Thankfully, yes, he was. _A real Sleeping Beauty huh._ He put a hand on the sleeping boy's forehead ( _warm, thank god_ ) and the boy didn't even stir. Mikoshiba finished cleaning up and did some of his revision, then retired to bed at ten. It was a little cramped for two guys of their size but it wasn't be the first time he'd shared, so they managed just fine.

 

\--------------------

 

He was woken up in the middle of the night by feather-light touches on his shoulder and arm in the dark, like that of a blind person trying to feel his way around. The only light in the room came from the street, slanting through the curtains to land on the wall, enough for him to see Rin sitting up in bed. "Matsuoka?" He murmured.

 

The feather light touches stilled. "Buchou?" The boy whispered, sounding confused. "What are you doing here?"

 

Mikoshiba was slightly amused to hear the boy still address him as captain. He spoke softly, trying to reassure the disorientated kid. "This is my room. You were too tired to get home so I let you crash at my place instead."

 

"Oh. Thanks," came the equally soft reply.

 

"Why are you awake? Do you need anything?"

 

"I'm thirsty."

 

Oh, right. Mikoshiba checked his watch, telling time by the glow-in-the-dark hands. It was three in the morning. The boy hadn't drunk anything for the past twelve hours. No wonder he was thirsty. He felt around for the nightlight and switched it on, wincing as the sudden light hurt his eyes. He located the flask he kept by his bedside and poured out a glass of water, which the boy accepted with mumbled thanks, eyes still closed. He drained it, returned it, thanked him again. Mikoshiba was surprised that the boy seemed to be so polite when half-conscious. He remembered Rin was mostly all sharp sarcasm and easy irritability, even after that relay with the Iwatobi team. _The kid could be nice if he tried,_ he mused.  Mikoshiba switched the nightlight off after placing the glass on the floor and settled back into bed.

 

He then realised the boy was asleep while still sitting up. _How can a person be so tired?_  he thought. "Hey, Matsuoka, lie down." A gentle tug on the boy's sleeve caused him to keel over sideways into the pillow.

 

All was quiet for a while, then Mikoshiba's eyes flew open as he felt something push his arm up, squirm clumsily under it to press into him, warm all along his side. He felt the boy's head settle on his shoulder, an arm flung over his chest. _Unbelievable._ _The boy was cuddling up to him_. Mikoshiba's arm settled back down on reflex, a warm weight on Rin's back, and Rin squirmed under his touch, humming. _Matsuoka, you tsundere,_ he thought affectionately. He wondered if he should extract himself carefully from the boy, if he was deriving any undue, unfair advantage from this sleep-drunk cuddle of his kouhai or if Matsuoka would blow his room up in anger/embarrassment to deny that such a thing had happened. He decided that it was harmless and the kid probably wouldn't remember anything in the morning anyway. 

 

"Sheesh, Matsuoka. You must really be damned out of it." 

 

The boy made a sound at the back of his throat, sounding curious, so he continued.

 

"Normal people don't train themselves into a coma, you know. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

 

It was meant to be a rhetorical question, but unexpectedly, the boy answered him.

 

"I need to become faster." It was mumbled into his chest, but Mikoshiba could hear his reply in the silent room. "And," the boy paused for a moment, as though thinking about whether to speak or not. "If I train hard enough, I won't dream of Father."

 

Mikoshiba blinked in the darkness. He shifted to look at Rin. The boy was awake, it seemed; his eyes were open, staring. "Are the dreams of your father that bad?" He felt the boy nodding into his chest, the hand on his chest gripping his shirt tightly. "How so?"

 

"I'm never fast enough to save him from dying." A pause. A hiccuping sigh. "He always drowns in front of my eyes."

 

"Your father drowned?" Mikoshiba was shocked. He felt Rin flinch. 

 

"Out at sea,... in a storm."

 

"When?"

 

"When..." Rin jerked a little, placed his hands flat against Mikoshiba's chest, wanting to push himself away. Mikoshiba tightened his arm around Rin's shoulders, murmuring _it's alright, it's just me, it's safe_  until the boy's struggles stilled. "I, ...I was five."

 

Mikoshiba frowned in the dark. _Father hunger, missing father figure, compounded with a guilt complex for not being able to save him for some reason. That explains a bit about his obsession with swimming times, but has he been blaming himself for the past fifteen years?_

 

"It's not your fault. It couldn't have been your fault." He tried to put all his conviction into the statement and wished he could convince Rin, even a little.

 

The boy was shaking his head in denial. _No-no-no-no-no_. "It is, it is," he insisted. "I screw up _everything._ " Two hands fisted into his shirt and he heard the hitch in the voice, full of self-loathing. "Sometimes I think,... I shouldn't have been born."

 

Mikoshiba's heart spasmed at the whispered confession. He shifted, turning to hold Rin in a loose hug. He tried to look into Rin's eyes but they were were looking away at the far wall, unhappy eyes in a blank face.  Mikoshiba shook him gently to get his attention and then, Rin was looking at him. Not really, the light (or lack thereof) could be at fault here but Rin seemed to be looking through him, eyes like dark holes in his head.

 

Mikoshiba froze, not knowing what to say for a moment. _Say something!_

 

Then, he heard himself say, "Everytime you feel like this, look for me. I'll hug you till you feel better." Mikoshiba wanted to facepalm himself, hard. It sounded so cheesy and ineffective! "I mean, when you're down, look for me. I'll be here for you." 

 

Rin blinked. Mikoshiba wondered if he was saying the right thing, if he was getting through to the boy at all. _Come on, Matsuoka, say something!_

 

Rin exhaled softly and closed his eyes. Mikoshiba exhaled as well, feeling disappointed.

 

Something soft pressed against his lips. Rin was kissing him. Mikoshiba's eyes widened in surprise. It was the dryest, chastest closemouthed kiss he had ever received. It wasn't shy, it wasn't demanding. And it wasn't unpleasant. It was just contact, yet it was a little bit more. 

 

Then, the contact was gone. Rin pressed his forehead into Mikoshiba's chest, murmuring, "I'm tired. I want to sleep now."

 

Mikoshiba was left staring into the darkness as he cradled the sleeping boy. This was a bit more than what he had thought was wrong, was much more complicated than he had expected when he decided to make the first move to help his kouhai with his faltering times. The signs of depression had been there though, clear enough for him to see and he didn't want to repeat the same mistake of thinking that everything, _anything_ , would work out by itself on its own. 

 

\------------

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for Chapter 2  
> Father Hunger aka Father Absence, Father Deficit may lead to  
> \- children’s diminished self-concept, and compromised physical and emotional security (children consistently report feeling abandoned when their fathers are not involved in their lives, struggling with their emotions and episodic bouts of self-loathing)  
> -behavioral problems (fatherless children have more difficulties with social adjustment, and are more likely to report problems with friendships, and manifest behavior problems; many develop a swaggering, intimidating persona in an attempt to disguise their underlying fears, resentments, anxieties and unhappiness)  
> -mental health disorders (father absent children are consistently overrepresented on a wide range of mental health problems, particularly anxiety, depression and suicide)
> 
> There are many other other effects on children, I just zeroed in on those that seemed to pertain most to Rin.  
> from http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/co-parenting-after-divorce/201205/father-absence-father-deficit-father-hunger
> 
> Survivor's guilt (or survivor's syndrome) is a mental condition that occurs when a person perceives themselves to have done wrong by surviving a traumatic event when others did not. It may be found among survivors of combat, natural disasters, epidemics, among the friends and family of those who have committed suicide. Sufferers sometimes blame themselves for the deaths of others, including those who died while rescuing the survivor or whom the survivor tried unsuccessfully to save. The experience and manifestation of survivor's guilt will depend on an individual's psychological profile. Survivor guilt (...) has been redefined as a significant symptom of post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Adapted from Wikipedia.


	3. The Best Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch out for blatant misuse of italics.

Rin felt himself slowly become aware as he rose from the deepest level of cottony darkness. It was warm and blessedly dark where his face was half-buried in the pillow and he didn't remember any dreams, which was great. He tried to remember what day it was. Thank god, it was Sunday. He didn't need to go to school. He'd just lie here till... Wait, ... he inhaled deeply. He smelled... bacon? His stomach made its discomfort known from where it had been chewing on his backbone for hours, it felt like, reminding him it hadn't been fed since... since? When had he last eaten?

 

The smell of frying bacon grew stronger.  _Why?_  He peeled open bleary eyes and slowly raised his head, wincing because his head seemed to weigh a ton.

 

Eyes that were half-scrunched up with sleep widened in shock as he looked up into a frying pan full of bacon and Mikoshiba's face peering down at him. It was a rather bizarre and horrifying sight for a person used to waking up alone. Mikoshiba grinned so bright and wide,  _it was like the sun coming over the freaking mountains_.  

 

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" Mikoshiba hailed him, his voice booming on Rin's shell-shocked sensibilities. "Get up! Breakfast will be ready soon!" 

 

Rin looked incredulously at Mikoshiba's back as he turned away, then all around him, taking stock of his surroundings in disbelief.

 

_What. The. Fuck._

 

He scrambled to get up as though electrocuted, kicking away the covers. He was in Mikoshiba's room, in Mikoshiba's bed, in Mikoshiba's clothes, and..., he clapped a hand to the waistband of his pants,...  _and going commando_.  _What the fuck did we do last night?!_  He stumbled over the hem of his too-long track pants just as he finally won free of the clinging covers, barely catching himself from sprawling on the floor, borrowed shirt slipping down to expose a shoulder. He pushed it up, only to have it slip down the other side.  _Fuck, are our sizes that different?_ _His shoulders are huge._

 

He pushed a hand up through his hair and grimaced as his fingers got caught in the tangles of his bedhead.  _Ow! Alright_ , _Matsuoka, calm down and for fuck's sake, try and remember what happened_. His abs, shoulders and arms hurt like crazy but he didn't feel sore in the wrong places so they couldn't have done anything Mikoshiba would have to take responsibility for. He remembered swimming the day before, being kicked out of the pool and the gym, then training himself in the dance studio to exhaustion with Mikoshiba, determined to continue with physical conditioning. Then?  _Then?_ How did it get to this point where he wasn't wearing his own clothes and couldn't remember how he ended up in the bed of his one-time captain.  _What DID he remember, then?_ He remembered... he remembered waking up in the middle of the night. And  _snuggling_  with Mikoshiba. And the kiss. He blinked, blood draining from his face.  _The kiss._ _I fucking kissed him, oh my god_. And what was even scarier, Rin couldn't remember if he had done anything else. Rin facepalmed himself hard and barely felt the sting. Mikoshiba hadn't taken advantage of him.  _He_  had taken advantage of Mikoshiba. His track record of fuck-ups witnessed by Mikoshiba seemed to be hitting new lows, something which he hadn't thought possible. And it wasn't like he had the excuse of being drunk, high, or insane. 

 

How could he face Mikoshiba now? He couldn't walk out to meet him, and leaving the room via the window was shaping up to be an increasingly attractive option. His escape plans were thwarted when Mikoshiba made a reappearance, looking through the door. "Hey, you're up. Are you ok? Breakfast's ready."

 

Rin scowled at Mikoshiba, his gaze skittering away from concerned, golden eyes and jerking away when they landed on his lips instead. He stared at the floor blindly, his entire being a mess of physical and mental discomfort. He was achingly hurt all over, abominably hungry and thirsty, amazingly embarrassed and he felt scruffy and unkempt. One sliver of hope he clung to was that Mikoshiba was being nice and cheerful as always and had even cooked him breakfast, so he couldn't have molested Mikoshiba... much.

 

He felt a warm hand on his forehead and those fucking eyes and lips were suddenly too close. "Matsuoka?"

 

Rin emitted a sound that was a cross between a yelp and a squawk because he had no idea when Mikoshiba had teleported over to him, one arm striking out to swat the hand away. In his haste to get away, he stepped on the heel of the too-long track pants pooling at his feet and suddenly the world tilted, blurred and  _he was falling_.  _Oh shit._

 

He felt himself being body-checked mid-fall, strong arms wrapping themselves around him, of being spun around so that he was falling face first. Then he landed on Mikoshiba, on the bed, in a tangle of arms and legs.

 

Rin looked down at Mikoshiba who was wheezing at having the breath knocked out of him.  _He did not just_... He stared at the bit of broken skin on Mikoshiba's lower lip as blood started to well from it. He remembered Mikoshiba's wide open eyes staring up into his own mid-fall, and his mouth had happened to press down on his mouth when they landed on the bed instead of the floor, and then Rin had  _bitten_  him.

 

Rin wondered what date it was because today was the day that he was going to run home, crawl under his bed and die there. Mikoshiba must've heard his thoughts because his arms tightened around Rin as he struggled to get up. 

 

"It's alright, ow! What the hell, Matsuoka, don't you want breakfast?" Mikoshiba groaned from under him as Rin tried to make use of discreet use of his jabbing elbows to get away.

 

And Rin's stomach chose that moment to growl long and audibly.

 

Rin froze. 

 

And Mikoshiba laughed.

 

Rin remembered that Mikoshiba's laugh had always been his secret weapon during the days when he had been Samezuka's captain; couldn't count the number of times where he had gotten his way, broken up disagreements, persuaded the team to insane training regiments, made peace or make people wear silly maid costumes with a back-slap and that laugh. It had the ability to brighten the atmosphere and make the protests / arguments of anyone who disagreed with him petty and trivial, it was just so warm, joyful and confident, it made the listener feel warm. It was especially powerful today, feeling the vibrations of Mikoshiba's chortles through his chest from such close range, because even though today probably ranked among the most embarrassing days of Rin's life and he only had been awake in it for ten minutes, and even though he was an even greater fuck-up than usual even by his standards, Mikoshiba's laugh just seemed to accept all that he was and say, " _It's okay_." 

 

He gave up and let his head fall into the space between Mikoshiba's head and shoulders, and made no reaction when Mikoshiba gently pushed him off to the side, patted him on the head with a cheerful "Stay!" because  _he was just so fucking done with all of this_.  

 

Mikoshiba trotted back and forth from the kitchen, bringing a low table, two cushions, two big plates of scrambled eggs and bacon, another plate piled high with toast, some cutlery, sweetener and two cups of thick black coffee. He arranged the table, cushions and Rin's share of the food a little ways in front of him, then sat down and waited, looking at Rin expectantly. Rin felt like he was being treated like some stray cat, forced to make the first move through the lure of food because he needed to, even though he didn't want to. He glared at the older male for the use of such silly tactics, then looked away, trying not to cringe as his stomach made another protest. 

 

Mikoshiba said dryly, "The food's not poisoned, you know. And you've not eaten for longer than, what, twenty-four hours? You're gonna burn holes in your stomach at this rate." Rin's stomach agreed.

 

Rin looked over at Mikoshiba, noticed him running a knuckle absently over his cut lip and mentally sighed/snarled/kicked himself simultaneously.  _How much more are you going to make me owe you, idiot!_ He slowly crept down from the bed and sat down on the cushion and tried not to look up at Mikoshiba beaming at him.  _Stop it. I'm not a plant,_ he wanted to say. What came out was a grumpy, "I'm not eating this because I'm hungry," which made him want to facepalm again because both of them knew it was a lie. Mikoshiba  _fucking_  laughed at him, then said, "Itadakimasu." Rin echoed the phrase softly, then took a piece of toast and put a chunk of egg on it and bit into it.  _Ohhhhhh._  His body's relief at having something to eat made his eyes water and it was like food had never tasted so indescribably good. He tried to wolf down his food as unhurriedly as possible. Mikoshiba chose not to interrupt his single-minded scarfing of the food and both ate their meals in silence. Though Rin had the bigger portion and had consumed most of the toast, he still finished his meal before Mikoshiba. "Thank you for the meal," he mumbled. Mikoshiba waved a hand and nodded in acknowledgement and continued eating. 

 

"So, what are your plans for today?" Mikoshiba took that as an indication to start small talk, even as he heaped the last of his scrambled eggs on a fragment of toast.

 

Rin pouted, thinking that he knew what was coming. He felt markedly better now that he had eaten but it still irked him on principle that Mikoshiba was still monitoring his activities out of the pool, even though it was on orders of the Coach.

 

"Running, probably." He'd probably find a public pool to swim in, never mind that it would be crowded. 

 

Mikoshiba didn't look surprised. "Have you forgotten you're supposed to be on break? I made the mistake of letting you bonk yesterday and you should take at least one or two days to recover."

 

Rin lowered his eyes, but his face was set. Mikoshiba seemed to detect Rin's obstinacy.

 

"Geez, Matsuoka, I'm trying to help you here. Don't you want to improve your times?" He put his food down, leaned forward and spoke with some urgency. "The selection for the World University Games is in like, two or three week's time, and I think we should be on the same team. You might not aware of it, but Coach has had his eye on us both for quite a while now, but even  _he_  can't help if your times don't make the cut."

 

Rin hunched in on himself, knees drawn up to his chest, sharp needles of frustration blossoming in his chest and gut. Of course, he knew that the dates for WUG 2015 selection were coming soon. The top swimmers in the National Seven Universities and some of the colleges would come together for the selection and only the best, or at most, two best swimmers in each stroke style would get to go. It was incredibly important to Rin to be good enough to qualify for it. It was such a very tiny stepping stone but if he couldn't achieve even this hurdle for an international tournament with such a relatively limited pool of swimmers, then he had no hope at all for the open championships like the 2016 Asian Swimming Championships, the 2016 FINA, and ultimately the 2016 Olympic selection team.

 

"I know!  _Of course_  I know. That's what I'm training for, dammit." he bit out, struggling to keep his tone even. He glared at Mikoshiba, wondering what there was in it for him to interfere with his swimming. "What, you think that  _dancing_  will help my times to improve?"

 

Mikoshiba leaned back, unfazed by Rin's hostility. "Yes," he replied simply. "It will."

 

Rin hit the floor with an open palm at that impossible answer, jumping a little at the loud noise he unexpectedly created. He flushed a little at the unseeming show of emotion and looked away. "You don't  _know_  that," he ground out.

 

"I  _know_  that you can't qualify as you are," Mikoshiba looked frustrated as well. Then, his expression turned serious ( _his Captain's face,_ Rin thought) as he took a deep breath. "I would send our our best members out there. That's what a team should do. You're not at your best condition right now."

 

Rin blanched at those words, the words of a memory from a lifetime ago that still dropped on his heart like bricks on glass. Mikoshiba pushed his hair back unhappily as they stared at each other. "Your Iwatobi friends aren't here to help you right now, but I am. Is it so difficult to accept help from me?" Mikoshiba paused, then went on. "We belong to the same team. We could be the best team together, right?"

 

Rin put his head on the table and closed his eyes, tired out by Mikoshiba's insistence and his own emotions. Mikoshiba was a great swimmer, he knew that. With him here, it was almost certain that he would represent Japan in the WUG 2015 for the fifty, hundred and perhaps the two hundred metre free, probably beating even Haru for the privilege. Mikoshiba wanted to help him, wanted him on the same team. But Mikoshiba was asking him to  _trust_  him, to  _give up control_. For one week. Did he not understand how difficult it was for him to do that? And why did he want to help him anyway? Rin didn't know, didn't understand. 

 

Mikoshiba poked him in the ribs, making him look up with a glare. "Come on, Matsuoka, don't be like that. How bad can I be? I think I swim really well because of breaking, you should be happy at learning my secret, don't'cha think?" Then Mikoshiba back-slapped him and laughed that warm, joyful, confident laugh, the one that made you feel all his ideas were possible, making Rin glare weakly at him.  _Dammit buchou, you do not play fair._

 

"You have one week," he found himself mumbling, and watched as a triumphant grin spread over Mikoshiba's face. He blinked in confusion as Mikoshiba extended a fist towards him.  _What is this for?_

 

 "Geez, Matsuoka!" Mikoshiba pouted when Rin didn't move. "Don't you know what a fistbump is?" 

 

  _A fistbump...? Oh..._ Rin groaned internally. He extended his own fist and gently bumped Mikoshiba's knuckles. "For the team," he said huskily.

 

 Mikoshiba's answering grin was like the sun. "The best team!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chpt 3 notes:  
> Readers should know that I wanted to write Seijuurou as a big cheesy dork but now he's too cheesy and I can't stand it.


	4. Insecurity Blanket

Day 1, Monday:

 

Rin was entering the lecture hall for his lessons when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his bag. He fished it out as he slid into a seat at the back of the hall and slid it open to read the message.

 

Mikoshiba S. (10.58am) : _Meet you in front of the library at 3.15._

 

Rin scowled at the message on his cell phone. Mikoshiba had his schedule and thus knew when his classes would end. He was already regretting at having agreed to follow Mikoshiba’s pace for the week. He was too used to independence, too used to not having anyone monitor his comings and goings since he was twelve years old. And now… He couldn’t help feeling an overwhelming irritation at having to report to Mikoshiba like a silly, recalcitrant child, like he would probably run off to train himself into the ground if left unsupervised. Rin hit his head on the table, scaring the students seated in front of him.

 

 _Fuuuuuuuuck_. He wanted to train, dammit.

 

' _Yeah.'_  He typed reluctantly and pressed ‘Send’.

 

\-----------------------

 

Rin was surprised when Mikoshiba greeted him at the entrance of the library with a smile and a wave when he walked up. “Whoa. You’re actually on time.”

 

“Of course,” Mikoshiba looked perplexed as he pointed at himself. “Do I look like the kind of person who’d be late?”

 

 _Well, yeah._ Rin looked away. There had been a lot of things he had assumed about his Captain in high school, no thanks to a weird and nosy kouhai who had once asked if he would consider dating his Captain. The imagine spot had not gone well. He had known that Mikoshiba was a reliable person, so why had he assumed that Mikoshiba would be careless about being punctual? Thankfully, Mikoshiba didn’t seem like he expected an answer to his question, and with a grand wave of his hand and a cheerful smile, indicated that they should start walking out of the campus.

 

“So, what are we doing?” Rin asked after a while, curiosity winning over reluctance.

 

“We are going to get coffee and snacks,” Mikoshiba answered confidently. “Then we are either going to your place or mine, and you,” he pointed at Rin, “are going to do homework.”

 

“Homework? Me?” Rin sputtered in surprise. “For _what_?”

 

“You’ll see,” Mikoshiba grinned at Rin’s reaction. _Just like an angry cat_ , he thought. He pointed to a little café at a corner, one that Rin had not noticed before. “There’s a good place for coffee. What would you like to have?”

 

\----------------------

 

They ended up at Mikoshiba’s place again. ‘Homework’ for Rin meant studying from an e-book about breakdancing terminology, how-to drills and techniques to learn what was what, then scouring YouTube for videos using Mikoshiba’s laptop while sitting at the low table, looking out for a breaking style and music that appealed to him.

 

So, Rin learnt about toprock, downrock, power moves and freezes. He finished his coffee while learning about moves like spyders, knee spins, headswipes, airchairs, flares, windmills, jackhammers, shoulder haloes. (There were many more, the e-book was more than a hundred and fifty pages of exercises, techniques and theory, even if it was rather picture heavy.) Rin learnt that while breaking originated in America, breaking culture was also rather prevalent in South Korea, United Kingdom, Germany, France, Russia, and Japan with breakdancing schools called ‘cyphers’ who regularly churned out breakers with outstanding creativity and talent as evidenced by the list of countries who had earned top three placings at the Battle Of The Year, considered the World Cup of breaking. He watched video after video while absently eating dinner (fried rice with egg and meatballs) with Mikoshiba, both exchanging comments and pointing spoons at the screen, him trying to identify moves and being corrected more often than not. He got better, though. He learnt that a round of breaking lasted from thirty seconds to a minute and could expend more core strength and upper body effort than two hundred meters of competition standard butterfly. He thought he found the breaker that Mikoshiba had based his style on, a South Korean breaker going by the moniker ‘Hong10’, while he himself rather admired the clean and precise moves of a French breaker named Mounir, raptly watching every video of him he could find on YouTube (he was rather arrogant and seemed to turn into a bit of an asshole in the ring, more given to taunt his opponents than any other solo breaker, but he had the talent, the skills and the dedication to put in all the hard work to back his attitude up and Rin could respect that.)

 

It was all rather interesting, entertaining, even, so it was a surprise to Rin when Mikoshiba folded the laptop screen down firmly, saying, “It’s already going on midnight, Matsuoka. That’s enough homework for today.”

 

Rin stared in disbelief at the clock. _Where the hell had the time gone?_ He straightened his back and rotated his shoulders, finally feeling the strain from being seated in the same position for so long. He _was_ tired. He also noticed that Mikoshiba’s hair was wet and slicked down, he had already showered and changed for sleep _and he had not even noticed like when the hell had he even left Rin alone to take his bath because Rin hadn't noticed he was gone_.

 

“Geez, you really are a single-minded organism, you know,” Mikoshiba said, yawning.

 

Rin had no reply for that. He pushed himself away from the table and got to his feet, muttering, “I should be going back now.”

 

“Or you could stay the night,” Mikoshiba also got to his feet. “Makes no difference to me.” He stretched towards the ceiling, unknowingly flashing a wide strip of tautly toned abdomen at Rin as his shirt went up while his track pants went down, traveling dangerously low showing the V-line of his hips, _so stupidly obliviously sexy_.

 

Rin facepalmed, feeling his face burn. _Godammit,_ he thought furiously, _Mikoshiba is dangerous_. Then, he wanted to facepalm himself again because he needed to stop thinking about in what way was Mikoshiba dangerous while something inside him screamed that buchou was a guy that should be strictly off-limits no matter what.

 

“Matsuoka?” Mikoshiba looked at him worriedly.

 

And, sheesh, he was behaving strangely in front of Mikoshiba again. Rin looked out at Mikoshiba from gaps between his fingers. He opened his mouth to say that he wanted to leave

 

( _but actually he didn’t, he wanted to stay because he had really enjoyed Mikoshiba’s company today, it hadn’t been bad at all, but now he was tired and confused and wasn’t sure if staying was such a great idea or not after all)_

but nothing came out.

 

Mikoshiba huffed and said, “Yups, yups, you should stay after all.” He patted Rin on the head, pushed a set of clothes into his arms, steered him to the bathroom. “Go wash up, get changed, then sleep. Everything will be better in the morning.” As he closed the door, he suddenly smacked his fist into his palm, struck by a sudden idea. “Hey! For breakfast, we’ll have pancakes!”

 

\-----------------------

 

Rin leaned against his side of the bathroom door and snickered, despite himself. _Pancakes_ , of all things. It must be nice being Mikoshiba, he thought, so random, simple and straightforward, able to sweep others up into his pace. He wondered if he should resist this pace, this frightening lack of self-determined control, because being fearful and dependent on others just screamed of weakness. And Rin could not stand thinking of himself as weak.

 

He slid down the door till he was sitting on the floor, knees drawn close to him in a fetal position. _Be truthful_ , he told himself. _You are afraid. You are afraid of not being able to trust yourself. You are afraid of becoming too dependent on Mikoshiba’s care, and of wanting more than what he’s willing to give. You are afraid because no one can stay by your side forever._

 

His father’s funeral portrait. Four boys and a trophy, five older boys with their arms around each other. Heartbroken green eyes and disappointed blue. Confident gold eyes. _We could be the best team together, right?_

 

Rin gritted his teeth and curled in on himself tighter, burying his face in Mikoshiba’s clothes.

 

It doesn't have to be so complicated, he reminded himself. All he had to do was to go back to his apartment, and Mikoshiba wouldn’t stop him. All he had to do was to choose to walk away and take care of himself as usual and all this _(stupid, fucking, ridiculous)_ fear of losing something that did not belong to him would be gone.

 

\---------------

 

Mikoshiba was still marginally awake when Rin finally came out of the bathroom, dressed in Mikoshiba’s clothes. He waved Rin over to his side of the bed and waited till he had crawled under the covers before he turned off the light.

 

Mikoshiba, predictably, fell asleep almost immediately.

 

Rin was certain he’d remain awake indefinitely, kept awake by his conflicted thoughts, but like a stray cat curled up by the flickering embers of a fireplace, he was soon fast asleep as well.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for Chapter 4:  
> The idea that Mikoshiba would be careless about punctuality and disorganized for dates was all in Rin's imagination from the Drama CD. I have absolutely no idea why Rin would think that about the Captain, who has shown himself to be a serious and disciplined person when dealing with others, except when it comes to food and Gou, and even then he's just enthusiastic, not disorganized. I like Rin, but I totally reject his head canon. 
> 
> Title of Mikoshiba's e-book: Encyclopedia of Breakdancing, 169 pages
> 
> Mounir is a top French breaker who seems to have a taunting, arrogant attitude to his opponent in the ring but not out of it. In fact, after the match is over, the attitude is gone and there are hugs and congratulations given whether he has won or lost so I don't know whether he just unleashes his inner asshole during matches or if it is all just an act. He is very skillful, technical and precise, he often 'answers' his opponent (meaning he is able to incorporate what the other person has performed but better and with more flair in his performance), and he trains like Rocky Balboa, so I can just see Rin respecting his performance, confidence and style. =P


	5. Everyone Has Issues, Some Just Hide It Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watch this first. XD  
> It's very cool and provides context to what Rin and Mikoshiba were talking about in the dance studio.  
> 1) Title Defense Video by BBoy Mounir http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AKU7cfz2dnY
> 
> 2) (optional) Shosei (12 year old BBoy) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2YWIqrHbsvI
> 
>  
> 
> Ok, I'm sorry this took so long. I had so many different ideas and not enough skill from way back in March to write them... which is not to say I actually have the skill now, but this is at least a version that I am happy with.  
> Many thanks to fellow fic writer/ MikoRin shipper ThunderDownonGreenside for reading my drafts and cheering me on, if not, this draft wouldn't have matured.  
> So, this chapter is for you. ^_^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> Delayed onset muscle soreness (DOMS)  
> Also called muscle fever, is the pain and stiffness felt in muscles several hours to days after unaccustomed or strenuous exercise. Although there is variance among exercises and individuals, the soreness usually increases in intensity in the first 24 hours after exercise. It peaks from 24 to 72 hours, then subsides and disappears up to seven days after exercise.  
> Universiade:  
> The WUG/Universiade is an international multi-sport event, organized for university athletes by the International University Sports Federation (FISU). The name is a combination of the words "University" and "olympiad". It's referred to as the World University Games or World Student Games. It’s held every two years. The Summer Games that Sei and Rin are training for will be held in South Korea, from July 3 to July 14, 2015.

Day 2, Tuesday

"Woah~!" Rin yelped as he stumbled on landing, trying a execute a cartwheel. His knee buckled under him, the overworked muscles from the day before *creaking* as they tried to keep him upright and failed, and he barely saved himself from overbalancing and crashing into the floor.

_Ow, ow, fuck, ow!_ Rin winced as his entire body protested movement and let himself fall/sit gracelessly down on the floor. He stretched one leg out in front of him and leaned forward to stretch, then twisted his torso stiffly, feeling the muscles pull in his back and waist.

Bloody hell, was he suffering this degree of DOMS just from fucking _calisthenics_? He was practically stiff as a board when he fell out of bed this morning. He pressed his palm into his quad muscle on his upper thigh, trying to will the soreness away from it.

Thank God Mikoshiba wasn’t around to see him make a fool of himself. _He’d probably laugh himself silly or extend his no-training ban._ He repeated the stretching exercises with the other leg.

Mikoshiba better hurry up and arrive soon. He needed to get his blood flowing. He needed to get stronger and improve.

_He remembered what the swim coach had said to him about the World University Games a few weeks before.  "Looking at your times, Matsuoka, you're a good choice for Butterfly. Do well enough in the selections and Games, and the board might send you for FINA too. Do well in both and there's a chance you'll get a shot at the National Team in 2016."_

 

_The Olympics! Rin thought. He barely stopped himself from bouncing on his toes._

 

_"Of course, being invited doesn't mean you'll represent," his coach had smiled at his excitement, "but still, get their notice first, right?"_

 

_Right._

 

Rin hadn't counted on his times dropping though, and his subsequent attempts to improve his times to fail so miserably. Somehow, Mikoshiba had come into the picture with his offer to help, and Rin had accepted his ex-Captain's offer reluctantly.

 

 _Dammit, Mikoshiba, you're late today._  He thought irritably.

 

Not only that, despite his motivation and desire to move, to train, he could feel the weariness in his arms and shoulders and back creeping up his neck and fogging up his brain. The coffee he had taken earlier was doing nothing to put a dent in his lethargy. He shook his head angrily, trying to get a grip on himself. How frustrating it was, to be held back by the limitations of one's own body! Where mental fortitude could not make up for physical shortcomings. 

He slumped, then yawned. _Come on, Mikoshiba!_ He flopped on his back and stretched out on the floor. _Only for a while_ , he thought, _because it felt good to be prone_. He’d almost died getting to and from classes and had almost overbalanced and hit his head while changing. He turned on his side, pillowing his head on his arm.

He’d just close his eyes and rest for a minute before Mikoshiba came.

Yeah.

**  
  
**

\------------------

"Matsuoka!?" Mikoshiba's heart skipped a beat when he came in and found Rin flat on the floor in the dance studio. _What the fuck_?! Did he break his neck, or...? He dropped his bag in his rush to check on his prone junior. A swift check verified that Rin was indeed breathing, warm and asleep, not injured, or worse. He fell backwards and sat on the ground in his relief.

"You’ve got to be joking with me," he murmured, and dug his fingers into the bridge of his nose, sighing and shaking his head. _It’s okay, he’s alive, not dead._ He breathed deeply, trying to slow his racing heartbeat. He couldn’t imagine having to explain to Gou-kun or to the Matsuoka family if anything had really happened to Rin. _Sorry, your son broke his neck trying to learn break-dancing with me_. He shivered.

He sat cross-legged in front of the sleeping boy, propped up his chin with his hand and studied the problem. _His_ problem, the young man named Matsuoka Rin. _Dead to the world_ , he thought, and snickered.

_He had seen this before hadn't he? Earlier..._

“Matsuoka, you moron,” he murmured, startling himself. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but fortunately, the first year didn’t stir. Which was to be expected, really.

He reached forward and brushed Rin's forehead with his fingers, then rested the back of his hand against Rin’s cheek. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, wake up.”

Rin slept on. _Moron_ , Mikoshiba thought again, poking at Rin’s cheek. _If you're this tired, you really should know better than to insist on training. The problem is, you don't know better, do you?_

Mikoshiba took his hand away and looked to the side, thinking about the course of action for the day. Matsuoka needed rest or he’d never recover in time for the World University Games selection. And Matsuoka’s body knew better than he did about the need for recovery, obviously. He shrugged and went to his bag, pulling out his notes to study.

He’d let Matsuoka sleep for a while.

\------------------

Day 3, Wednesday

Mikoshiba S. (9.30am) : Are you skipping class? Where are you?

Rin made an aggravated sound as he slid the cell phone into his bag and continued hurrying to the Shinjuku Sports Centre. It was the nearest place off-campus with an indoor pool. He couldn’t believe that Mikoshiba had let him sleep the whole day away yesterday. _He was still a little stiff, but two whole days had gone by without any training, which was fricking unbelievable. Mikoshiba was supposed to help him with his swimming or breaking, but he had done nothing so far!_

He entered the facility and inquired for the use of the pool. After being held up for a moment to be informed about the advantages of applying for a membership should he want to use the facilities more frequently, he paid for the one-time entrance fee and hurried to the pool.

At this hour it would be unoccupied. He would have the pool to himself.

What he didn’t count on was to see Mikoshiba _*fucking*_ Seijuurou sitting on one of the starting blocks, reading his notes. _How the hell had he known where to find him?!_

“Yo~,” Mikoshiba greeted him, sliding his work into his bag and getting up from his seat.

Rin glared at him.

Mikoshiba had the most peculiar look of concern, disappointment and *something else* on his face. “You’re pretty single-minded, you know?” he drawled. “I had a friend who was just like you. So, it’s pretty easy to guess what you’ll do, really?” He shook his head at Rin and came to stand in front of him.

_Between him and the changing room. Fucking petty tactics,_ Rin thought angrily.

 

But... Mikoshiba did not want conflict, he could see it in his body language. He could go change and swim, and Mikoshiba couldn’t do a thing to stop him. Fixing Mikoshiba with an angry glower, Rin shifted his bag and made to walk past him. He saw Mikoshiba close his eyes and he sped up, the better to get past him quickly while Mikoshiba had given up trying to stop him. (Except Mikoshiba had not given up, because…)

“Why are you so insecure, Matsuoka?” Mikoshiba murmured as he pushed past him.

“Insecure?!” Rin spun around, angry at the unexpected accusation. He had his pride as a swimmer, dammit! _Swimming_ gave him confidence, it was *not* swimming that made him restless and irritable!

Mikoshiba turned and looked at him, anger and concern evident in his gold eyes, such that Rin felt flensed.“What else can it be, when you think that you’re not good enough to recover like other athletes, that you’re not good enough to take time off?”

“I am NOT good enough yet!” Rin had barely stopped himself from shouting.

“And you know what confidence in an athlete means?” Mikoshiba continued, as if he had not spoken. “Confidence is when you believe you can take days off to recover and still swim great.”

Mikoshiba's next line cut Rin even more deeply, if that were possible.

"And if you go now, you can swim, sure. But you won't swim *great*. _At all_."

And Rin had never hated Mikoshiba more in his life than when he couldn't refute *that*.

He flinched when Mikoshiba reached out and gripped his shoulder. “Matsuoka. I meant it when I said that I wanted to swim with you. I... am not asking you to quit now. I am asking you to rest. Taking a break _isn’t_ giving up. Just like training non-stop isn't toughness.”  

That made sense. That made a lot of sense. And maybe Rin was as insecure and fucked up as Mikoshiba had accused him to be, because fuck it all, he still believed that, in training himself to the ground, even if he could not be fast, at least he would not have given up.

“You’ll just be doing what I do. I’m on break, too.”

 

Rin gripped Mikoshiba’s hand on his shoulder, but did not shake it off, even though he wanted to. Why was he unable to respond?

  
“Come on, Matsuoka. I'm trying to help you.” Mikoshiba’s quiet voice was almost more than he could bear.

 

If Mikoshiba had been angry, had been loud, had been a tad more overbearing even, Rin would’ve had a justifiable target to unleash his anger, hate and frustration upon. But Mikoshiba had been nothing but calm and reasonable and Rin didn’t want to admit he was right, because that would mean that Rin was in the wrong, wouldn’t it?

 

His emotions roiled, having found a new target, himself. He didn’t even have his pride as a swimmer to shield him from his self-loathing anymore and he crumbled*, and he cried like he had the first day Mikoshiba had found him in the pool.

“Shhh, shhh,” Mikoshiba hugged him like he was five, patting his hair, while he cried for something that was beyond his reach.

 

“It’s going to be okay. You’ll swim great again. We’ll swim great together.”

**  
  
**

\------------------

Day 5, Friday

“Pack your legskins. We're going swimming today,” Mikoshiba told him when Rin answered the door.

“I am? We are?” Rin said in surprise. “But what about my ban?”

“Think of it as a reward for good behaviour. Don't tell Coach,” Mikoshiba had put a finger to his lips and winked at him, like they were sharing a secret.

  
  
Rin was appalled, even though he really wanted to swim. It seemed like Mikoshiba was just doing whatever he wanted! Although, he couldn't deny that there was a method to Mikoshiba’s seeming random exercises...

(The handstand drills they had completed the past two days, in preparation for the power moves in breakdancing. And yesterday, they had been jumping rope. It sounded like a real mundane activity, yet it wasn’t, not at the speed that they had done it; it had turned into a real coordination and agility drill. Mikoshiba demonstrated the two feet basic jump, switching feet, knee lifting, moving forward to back, and then from side-to-side. Criss-cross hands for variation and the double under. The dance studio was filled with sounds of the jump rope whirring and tak-tak-taks as the rope hit the floor in time with their jumps.)

They returned to the Shinjuku Sports Centre after their lessons had ended, and Rin had never changed or warmed up so fast or felt so at home when he dived into the blue water of the pool. He needed to get as much swimming done in the limited time that he was allowed.

“ _You’ve only got an hour,” Mikoshiba had said, looking at his watch._

__

_Crap!_

__

_Mikoshiba had laughed till tears came at Rin’s outraged expression, then reached out a hand to mess up his hair. Rin had snarled at him, baring his teeth, but Mikoshiba only laughed harder. Rin wondered if Mikoshiba would still be laughing if he bit him out of ire. Probably. He wouldn’t be surprised at anything his mad ex-captain came up with anymore._

But for now, Rin revelled at being back in the water. He didn’t know if the time spent with Mikoshiba had helped at all, but the water did feel more welcoming than it had been for the past few weeks.

He caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. Mikoshiba, he realised, cruising in the lane beside him. He sped up, (he couldn’t help it, it was practically wired into him) and Mikoshiba did too, answering the challenge. He felt the rush of adrenaline in his veins, heating up his blood, his skin. There was someone else in the water, someone to win, someone to beat.

 

Despite him having the head start and the earlier increase in speed, Mikoshiba inexorably pulled even, then overtook him with ease. Every stroke he gave only increased the distance between them. The power and speed in his ex-Captain’s stroke was just unreal!

Mikoshiba touched the other side first and pulled off his cap and goggles. “Yeah~!” He cried, hitting the water as he always did. He looked at Rin and smiled brightly, so different from the unhappy expression that he had worn the last time they were here. _He really enjoys swimming too_.

Rin pulled off his own cap and goggles, shaking the water away from his hair and eyes. Although he had known that Mikoshiba was the faster swimmer, _always had been_ and logically speaking, he never had a chance, the loss still tasted bitter in his throat. Fuck logic, he wanted to win, no matter who or when or where it was! 

 

It was amazing, really, all the complicated feelings all associated with Mikoshiba. He admired him for his swimming and hated him for his interference, embarrassed that he had seen him at his weakest and grateful that he had been so understanding and nice so far. He didn't know what to think about the hugs or the weird sense of comfort or security he had been given. In terms of swimming, he was someone to challenge and what was the point of accepting a challenge if there was no desire to overcome it? Even if Mikoshiba didn't see him as a threat or acknowledge him as a challenge to beat even. _*Look at me!*_

“Race me again!” He faced Mikoshiba, feeling childish and outmatched, but he also felt great today and there was the added thrill of racing against him...

Mikoshiba had looked at him, eyes narrowed for a moment, then shrugged. “In free? Why not?"

“Don’t go easy on me,” Rin warned.

Mikoshiba snorted and splashed a wave of water at Rin. “Cheeky brat. I’m always serious.” He pulled himself out of the water and bent to offer a hand to Rin. “I never go easy for anyone.”

\---------------------------------------

Day 7, Sunday

**  
  
**

Rin carefully got back to his feet from the handstand position and wiped the sweat from his face, feeling the blood rush down from his head from holding the position for so long. He was back in the dance studio with Mikoshiba, both togged out in basketball jerseys and trackpants.

He was also wearing elbow and knee guards, those chafed a lot, but Mikoshiba had insisted that he wear them until the time when he possessed the necessary control to perform the moves without them. He grimaced as he adjusted the fit of the velcroed wrist guard on his left wrist.

The extra precautions had been useful so far, at least in giving him confidence in performing the drills. Of course, he was only doing the baby stuff, turtle-freeze drills, (holding his body parallel to the floor with only with his hands as the point of contact with the ground, hardening his abs to iron and balancing on his elbows in this capoeira-inspired move) and assorted handstand drills (which focused on training up the ability to shift from one position to another while balanced on two hands), so that even if he crashed, he didn’t have far to fall. Still, he was getting better, he hadn't crashed or fallen once today.

He felt like he was getting nowhere with breaking, but Mikoshiba assured him that it was because he was comparing himself with his teacher and all the Youtube videos he had been watching. “You’re really progressing much faster than a rookie should even hope to improve. It helps that you're already in great shape, of course, but you're learning stuff so much faster than I ever did."

_Yes, but..._ He slumped and muttered what was on his mind, "I want to swim."

Mikoshiba gave a bark of laughter at Rin's admission and knocked his head gently upside with his fist and then messed up his hair. "Single-minded organism. You got to swim two days ago. You'll get to swim tomorrow."

Rin snarled half-heartedly, brushing his hand away. Yes, his one-week ban on training ended tomorrow, but if his times didn’t improve, what else could he do? As usual, he wondered if Mikoshiba appreciated or cared about what was at stake here. Even if he had said he wanted to swim with Rin…

Mikoshiba said something about warming up and got to his feet. Rin studied Mikoshiba's arms, shoulders and movements as he stretched. A very well-balanced build, he couldn't help noting, the kind that could only be achieved through dieting, training and gym. Heck, Mikoshiba's condition has always been good, he thought, biting his lip. He could afford to fool around. Taking a week's break probably meant nothing to him.

Mikoshiba selected a track and started his toprock sequence. Rin watched Mikoshiba dance. A warmup, he had said, but true to Mikoshiba's nature of never doing things by halves, it was shaping up to be a full-blown dance routine. Air swipes, shouldermills, headspins, freezes, suicides. Rin frowned as he studied the moves. He would not have dared try many of the moves for fear of injury, whether to knee or ankle, back or wrist, which could affect his swimming, perhaps permanently. And yet Mikoshiba ripped them out one after another, seemingly careless in his execution. He wore no extra protective gear but a thin black elbow guard, and seemed to avoid injury gracefully and sheer luck. That, Rin admitted, probably spoke for pretty high levels of confidence and skill. Confidence was Mikoshiba’s invisible charm point, and he had it by the bucketloads.

"How do you dare dance like this?" Rin asked, when Mikoshiba had settled back down beside him after he had finished, ending the routine with a salute to his audience of one.  "Don't you get hangups about getting injured?"

Mikoshiba looked at him over his towel, amused. "Oh, you'd get injured if your approach’s wrong or if you're scared. The number one thing to remember though, you don't break to get fit, you get fit to break. Physical conditioning first, then breaking, not the other way around.”

“Like that video of Mounir,” Rin remembered.

“Right!" Mikoshiba looked amused. "’Title Defense’! I saw that video too. You saw how he trained. Rope skipping, weights, push-ups, chin-ups, way before he started dancing. That’s the way it goes. Way before you even try any breaking technique or any freeze, you need to train up the physical strength and flexibility to do it, or you could kill yourself. Back, abs, neck and arms, knees and ankles. Even for toprock. Toprock looks easy, but you need to have strong knees for that or you’ll injure yourself and regret it when you get older." He draped the towel over his shoulder and leaned back on his arms.

"How old were you when you started breaking?" Rin asked, fiddling with the fit of the wrist guard again.

"I was…," Mikoshiba tilted his head and grinned. "Ten.”

“What?” Rin stared at him.

“Yeah! I had a fuck-ton of energy as a kid," (Rin snorted at this probable understatement), "and swimming and track weren't enough to burn it off, so," Seijuurou shrugged, "...my parents signed me up for classes."

Rin pictured the Mikoshiba parental units making Mikoshiba run around chasing after the bright spot of a laser pointer to expend his energy before bedtime and coughed into his hand to hide a smile.  

“You’re thinking something strange, aren’t you?” Mikoshiba said suspiciously.

Rin shook his head in denial. "There're breakdancing classes for kids?"

Mikoshiba looked at him with narrowed eyes, but allowed him to change the subject. "No. I learnt with a bunch of older students. But…,” Mikoshiba looked up, remembering. “There was only one boy my age but he helped me catch up with the rest, broke the moves down so they were easier to learn. He was a much better breaker than me."

"Was?"

"Yeah, ‘was’," Mikoshiba frowned as he looked down. "He doesn't break anymore."

Rin blinked at the change in Mikoshiba’s mood, like a switch had been flipped. He debated with himself over asking Mikoshiba about it, but the silence was broken by a group of girls coming in looking for a venue for their Zumba dance session. To his surprise (or perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised), all the girls knew Mikoshiba by name and greeted him happily, calling him “Sei-chan!” like old friends and Mikoshiba became all loud and friendly, social and showing off as usual.

To Rin’s consternation, Mikoshiba turned around and introduced Rin to the sports bra and gym tight wearing crowd and tried to help (read: force) him to make conversation with the girls, who all cooed and batted their eyelashes at ‘Sei-chan’s handsome/pretty friend, wow, what a nice chest and arms and what interesting teeth’. Rin gritted his interesting teeth. He had been ogled at by Momo before but this was… extreme. He did not sign up for this!

The dance studio was big enough for the two breakers to share with the Zumba group. However, during the breaks from Zumba, which somehow coincided with their own, some of the girls would come over to talk to them, and Mikoshiba, ever the social butterfly, would entertain them and their attempts at conversations. He had needed very little encouragement to perform another routine for them, even more flashy and reckless than the one that he had performed earlier (and he ended the routine with this spinning shoulder-mill move and managed to take his jersey off to loud cheers of appreciation from the girls).

It was so ridiculously showy that Rin couldn’t help but facepalm, laughing, and he was so distracted by the bright grin that Mikoshiba gave him that he couldn’t avoid the balled-up basketball jersey that came flying in his direction.

\------------------

The girls finally finished their Zumba class and got ready to leave, but a group of them broke off and approached Rin.

“Matsuoka-san?” One of them spoke up as Rin blinked at them. “I know this is sudden, but are you free tonight? We’re having a _goukon_ , and we’d love for you to join us!”

The suddenness of the invitation took him by surprise. Huh? _A goukon_? A blind group date with a group of people he probably didn’t know? He grimaced at their hopeful/pleading gazes and shook his head, mentally gathering the words to refuse the invitation. What he wanted to say, however, was replaced with a muffled grunt when he was pulled from behind into what probably looked like a one armed buddy hug ( _but in reality was a fucking one-armed necklock_ ).

“Of course, he’d love to go!” Mikoshiba said cheerfully from behind him as Rin fought to get free.   _Fuck, what the fuck, Mikoshiba~?_! “Thank you for the invitation!”

_What~~~~~?!_ Rin opened his mouth to protest, to say that he had homework, he was busy, he didn't want to go, but Mikoshiba covered his mouth with his other hand, managing to muffle his words and avoid his teeth. _Mi~ko~shiba~! You asshole~!_ He pulled forward, only to be pulled back, into Mikoshiba's fucking bare chest. _For fuck's sake, put on a shirt already!_

The girls smiled at Mikoshiba, miraculously ignoring the attempted kidnapping happening in front of them. “Sei-chan, you’re invited as well!”

"Really?" Mikoshiba said happily as Rin strained against his hold. "Message me the details and we'll be there."

**  
  
**

\------------------

**  
  
**

"Why the fuck do you think it’s a good idea to go?" Rin griped, trying to assuage his outrage by throwing a balled-up towel at Mikoshiba’s face.

Mikoshiba caught it before it hit. “Because making friends is good? And socializing is actually a thing? It’s a way to meet girls, or even guys, if you swing that way." A musical chime was heard. Mikoshiba turned to his bag, looking for his cell phone.

It was pretty obvious which way Mikoshiba swung, Rin thought, feeling self-conscious about something. He sprang to his feet, feeling stung by something which felt like rejection or pride, all part of the curious ambivalent feelings he had over the past few days.

Mikoshiba got up too, looking up from the message he was reading. "I just got the details about tonight. We're meeting at a place in Shinjuku, it starts at seven." He showed Rin the cell phone screen, but Rin turned away.

“I’m not going.” Rin stuffed his towel into his bag, wishing his frustrations could be put away as easily.

  
  
“Ah? But why?” Mikoshiba asked in surprise. “It’s just a goukon. The food’s at this place’s pretty good and there’ll be company. It's a good way to get to know each other better. How bad could it be?”

_It could be bloody horrible,_ Rin thought, rolling his eyes. He didn’t do too well at big social gatherings where the main objective was to act interested in meaningless small talk.

“I’ll pick you up at six thirty,” Mikoshiba grinned at him, then swept an eye around the dance studio to make sure that everything was in order.

_Don't_ , Rin wanted to say. Don't what? Don't pick me up? Don't sound like you actually care that I'll be there? _Don't confuse me any more_. But that was his problem, not Mikoshiba's.

“Don’t make it sound like a date,” he said instead.

Mikoshiba laughed and bowed as he held the door open. “As you wish.”

\--------

_How did one dress when attending a goukon in Tokyo? How formal_? Rin groused, standing in front of his wardrobe, pulling his hair into a ponytail. _And why the fuck was he agonizing so hard over it?_

_It was all Mikoshiba’s fault. And his,_ he admitted _, for being unable to say, “No.”_

In the end, he went for a black long-sleeved shirt with black cargo pants. He tied and arranged a red and black checked triangular scarf around his neck, bright accent colours matching with his eyes and hair. Black leather cuff bracelets completed the outfit. He looked at himself in the mirror. _Were the colours too dark though? Should he wear something brighter?_ Again, he was putting too much thought into it. Of course, if Mikoshiba turned up casually dressed as usual, then what he wore would be more than enough. He glanced at the clock, saw that it was time, and went downstairs to wait.

\-------

“Yo!” Mikoshiba waved to him, walking up. Hmmm, he was surprisingly punctual again. "You look good," Mikoshiba complimented him as they headed for the train station.

“So do you,” Rin replied gruffly. Mikoshiba dressed up surprisingly well. A black vest over a silver grey dress shirt emphasized his broad shoulders and went nicely with dark blue jeans that completed the long, lean look. “I’ve never seen you so dressed up before.” (Well, there was the one time Mikoshiba had dressed up as a butler for the maid cafe…, he had looked very nice then too.)

“Eh?” Mikoshiba looked down, even as he rolled up his sleeves to show his tanned forearms. “I thought I’d should dress up to match the company, you know?”

_Did he mean me?_ Rin wondered. A citrine-yellow spark in Mikoshiba's ear caught his attention. "You pierced your ears?"

"Yeah? Only on one side though." Mikoshiba's hand went to the piercing and fiddled with it. "Got it as a sort-of-souvenir when I was in Korea."

"That's... surprising. Did it hurt?" Rin asked. _It looked good,_ he thought, _matching his eyes_.

"You know, I~~~ have no idea!" Mikoshiba laughed. Rin raised an eyebrow. Mikoshiba hesitated, grinning, then shrugged. "I was drunk out of my mind at the time and don’t remember getting it. I actually got my eyebrow pierced at the same time too." He dipped his head towards Rin, touching the tail-end of his right eyebrow. Rin saw two small, healed puncture holes, practically invisible until called attention to. “I had to let it close because it was catching on my goggles.”

"How did you manage to get piercings and not remember them?" Mikoshiba was close enough for him to smell his cologne. _Cool Water by Davidoff_.

"I'd blame my friends, but they've got a video of me agreeing to everything very seriously. I'm bloody lucky they didn't get me to pierce anywhere else," He mock shuddered.

\------------------

The izakaya was one of many shops lining a popular street, marked by a hanging red lantern. They pushed aside the hanging curtain and entered the noisy, traditional Japanese style eatery. The fragrant smell of grilled chicken and seasoned pork tickled Rin's nose, making his stomach growl despite himself. He looked about him, feeling slightly more optimistic about the outing. Large pictures of items offered on the menu decorated the walls, from sushi to yakitori, alternated with posters advertising the izakaya's all-you-can-eat/drink policy. Low tables were arranged in long rows and many diners were already seated on the tatami mats and placing orders with the waiters and waitresses.

“Sei-chan! Matsuoka-kun!”  The girls who had invited them to the goukon waved to them from the side. "Glad you could make it!" One of them, seemingly the main organizer of the outing, gestured to some empty places. "Go sit over there! Some of us have already ordered, but if you want something else, feel free to order what you want from the menu! It's all-you-can-eat, so don't be shy! Oh, and here's your number for the random shuffling.”

The goukon seemed to be in full swing, even though the seats at their tables were only two-thirds filled, a group of twenty or so young men and ladies seated opposite each other, talking, eating and drinking. The only familiar faces to Rin belonged to the girls from the dance studio, although he would have been hard pressed to recognize them all dressed up, their hair stylishly arranged and makeup skillfully applied, fancy tops and slim pants in the place of gym wear. He nodded to them when they greeted him. Mikoshiba was hailed by both males and females alike and he greeted them all by name as they made their way to the empty seats at the end. He introduced them to Rin, too.

Shinozaki from the softball team, taking Engineering in Year 3. Asakawa from hockey, Liberal Arts, Year 1. Mitsuno and Kawahara from the girls' volleyball club, Architecture Year 1 and 2 respectively ...  

Rin nodded at everyone, hoping that it wasn't evident from his facial expression that he had already forgotten the first person's name. He wasn't usually bad with names, but having everyone introduced so quickly in such a noisy place made it difficult to remember. "How do you know all these people?" Rin muttered as they sat down on the tatami mats.

"By attending the Welcome Party for new students?" Mikoshiba replied, wiping his hands on a hot towel provided by a busy waitress. "You get to meet a whole lot of people from other faculties."

Rin made a face as he deposited his own used towel to the side and snagged a menu. He hadn't bothered to attend the Welcome Party, having chosen to just turn up for lessons on the first day of term. A waiter came to take their order, pulling a pen and clipboard from the little apron that was part of the uniform. He ordered chicken skewers and grilled beef, okonomiyaki and octopus salad. Mikoshiba ordered pork kushiyaki, grilled eel, mixed tempura and grilled smelt. Another waitress came and placed tall mugs of cold beer before them.

"Excuse me!" Rin called to the waitress in alarm. "I didn't order this?" he pointed at the unwanted beverage.

"It comes with the meal!" She replied cheerfully and sailed away to serve another table.

"But I'm underage!" Rin trailed off. _The girl had ignored him! Unbelievable!_ This establishment was way too careless in its observation of drinking laws. He turned to Mikoshiba, incredulous. “I’m only eighteen!”

"The organiser must have ordered the beers for us. But you don't drink, even during New Year’s?" Mikoshiba asked, setting his own frosted glass back down on the table, wiping a bit of foam away with the back of his hand. 

"I don't like the taste. Besides, it's all empty calories," Rin said, glowering at the beer in disgust. "And you?" he glanced at Mikoshiba. "Are you twenty yet?"

Mikoshiba grinned conspiratorially at him. "Only in December. But a little beer is harmless." Rin glared at him, disappointed that Mikoshiba was trying to *corrupt* him, bloody hell. "You should try it! I won't tell anyone, and it'll help you enjoy the whole thing more. You should cut loose a little, relax!" Mikoshiba's handwave included the whole of the noisy izakaya around them.

Rin raised an eyebrow, feeling cranky. _How the hell do you find alcohol and noise relaxing_? Mikoshiba's idea of relaxation obviously differed from Rin's.

Rin's crankiness grew when three girls chose that moment to sit in the empty places in front of them, having just arrived. They whispered to each other excitedly on seeing Rin and Mikoshiba.

"Hello, ladies!" Mikoshiba grinned sunnily at them, turning on the charm. It worked, the girls _melted_ and fairly tripped over each other to introduce themselves. Rin sighed and looked away. Then, he nearly doubled over from the poke that Mikoshiba gave him in the ribs. _Ow! What the hell?!_ He glared up at Mikoshiba.

 

Mikoshiba glared back down at him, wide-eyed and exasperated. _"Introduce yourself!"_ the tall redhead mouthed at him, then smiled back at the girls. _Please forgive my cranky friend._

 

Rin sighed even as he thought of what to say as his introduction. It was going to be a long night. 

\------------------

 

"So, Matsuoka-kun, are you seeing anyone right now?"

Rin almost bit through the bamboo meat skewer in frustration as the question was asked for the fifteenth or, possibly, twentieth time that night. The food at the izakaya had been good, great even, but the company had been aggravating enough to make him lose his appetite. His head hurt with the effort of conversing with strangers and the constant buzz of noise was terribly draining. Due to the nature of the goukon, he and Mikoshiba had been forced to shuffle their seats often to allow them to interact with different people, and the steady stream of girls that engaged him in conversation, asked him shallow questions mostly centred around his/their favourite past times and whether he was available to date them or not.

And Rin felt like putting up a sign that said, _'No, I'm not interested in anyone. Or in talking. Please leave me alone!'_ Or, ' _You wouldn't appreciate me not breaking my training schedule to date you.'_ None of the girls even liked to swim! They seemed to worry that the chorine would do things to their hair.

"Time to change seats!" Someone called out. Rin was the first to jump to his feet. _Finally!!_ He strode back to Mikoshiba, not caring that he was out of order. Enough was enough! He was tired of being surrounded on three sides by strangers.

"Had fun?" Mikoshiba asked him, smiling and relaxed, when he dropped into the empty seat beside him. Mikoshiba had been having fun, judging from the loud laughter that had been coming from his end of the table.

"As much fun as a multiple root canal operation," Rin grumbled. "I'm never attending another goukon ever again."

"Was it that bad for you?" Mikoshiba sounded surprised.

Rin nodded, stabbing at a nearby plate of rolled egg omelette with a pair of chopsticks and unnecessary force.

“Heh, tamagoyaki!” Mikoshiba brightened. He snagged a piece with his own chopsticks and popped it into his mouth, smiling as he chewed, looking remarkably like a squirrel with one cheek puffed out. “Momotarou loves this," he explained cheerfully. Rin snorted, remembering Momotarou's cheerful, childlike energy, so similar to his older brother.

They both looked up as two girls sat in the places opposite them. _More strangers!_ Rin groaned. And arrived late to the party, it seemed like; he had no recollection of seeing these two before.

Mikoshiba recognized one of them though. "Sayaka!" He exclaimed.

"Long time no see, Sei-chan," was the quiet response. They exchanged introductions. The pair introduced themselves as Nishiyama Jun and Kimura Sayaka, both freshmen in track and field. _They had an interesting look of being a yin-yang pair,_ Rin thought. Kimura being dark skinned with black hair and green eyes, and Nishiyama being fair with blond hair and blue eyes. They also had the look of sprinters, with their long legs and trim physique and hair cut flatteringly short, like pixies. It turned out he was only half-correct; Kimura was indeed a sprinter/hurdler, while Nishiyama was a long jump and triple jump specialist.

Mikoshiba sure knew all the pretty ones. Speaking of which, he suddenly realised that he was carrying this conversation with the two girls alone. He glanced at Mikoshiba who had fallen silent beside him. Was it his imagination, or was Mikoshiba unable to look the girl called Kimura Sayaka in the eye? Was she his ex-girlfriend or something? She didn't look particularly scary otherwise, to have intimidated him into silence.

**  
  
**

\------------------

"It's nice to see you after so long." Sayaka said to Mikoshiba quietly, picking at a piece of karaage chicken with her chopsticks. Jun was chatting animatedly to some guy seated beside him; the conversation was now between Mikoshiba, Sayaka and Rin. Or more accurately, the conversation was between Mikoshiba and Sayaka, with Rin as an unfortunate third party to this increasingly private conversation. He sighed and gritted his teeth, pretending to be marginally interested in the conversation happening on the other side of him.

"Are you still swimming with the National Team, Sei-chan?"

_Mikoshiba had been swimming with the National Team?_ Rin glanced at Mikoshiba, intrigued by the range of emotions coming off the second-year now. Mikoshiba was anxious, serious, tense even, _but for what?_

"No, I haven’t been," Mikoshiba said quietly, "I quit, since ... January."

Rin blinked. _It's just May, now. So he's stopped for ...four months?_

"Oh, Sei-chan...," Sayaka tilted her head, looking distressed.

Mikoshiba hesitated, then added, "WUG selections for swimming’s next week.”

Sayaka looked surprised. "Are you both going?" Mikoshiba nodded. "That's great! Good luck! We had our selections last week," Mikoshiba looked at her in askance. "I didn't make it," she sighed, "but Jun here did." she indicated her friend.

Mikoshiba winced. "I'm sorry.”

_Why did Mikoshiba look like it was his fault she didn't qualify?_ There was something going on here, but Rin felt like it would be intruding to ask what it was.

"I wasn't fast enough. I need to train harder, that's all." (Mikoshiba frowned.) "I'll have another chance at the 2017 Games," she smiled. “Maybe we can both represent then."

"Yeah." Mikoshiba smiled weakly.

"And breaking? I heard that you had...," Sayaka waved her hand, describing a tapering, downward motion.

"Ah, that. I’m still dancing," Mikoshiba looked up, met Rin's eyes, then looked away.

"It's nice to know that you're still dancing even… even after January. I was worried when I heard that you'd stopped.”

Mikoshiba looked down again, like a child being disciplined. "I'm sorry."

_What the fuck happened in January?_ Rin wanted to ask. _And why are you apologizing?_

Sayaka sighed, "Oh, Sei-nii-chan." She leaned forward and placed her hand on the table in front of him. "You need to know," she said urgently, "that I don't blame you at all."

Mikoshiba looked up and forced a smile. He didn't reach for her hand. "Thank you, Saya-chan."

Sayaka seemed about to say something more, but was interrupted by a call. "Time to change seats!"

Mikoshiba got to his feet quickly and bowed deeply to the girls. "It was nice meeting you again, Saya-chan. Jun-san. I hope the both of you stay happy and well."

Rin scrambled to his feet and followed Mikoshiba as he strode away to the other end of the table. He glanced back at Sayaka, saw disappointment and rejection writ all over her face.

_What the hell was going on here?_

**  
  
**

\------------------

"So..., is she your ex-girlfriend or something?" Rin asked, trying for casual, unable to contain his curiosity.

"HAH?!" Mikoshiba turned to him with a look of such amazed surprise that Rin regretted suggesting the idea. "Was that what we looked like to you?"

"Well, yeah?" Rin said defensively. "She knew a lot about you and you were having this guilty look the whole time you were talking to her, like you jilted her or something, or did something unforgivable. ' _Since January_ ', and all that!" He looked at Mikoshiba, hoping that he would get the hint and clarify.

"Something unforgivable, huh," Rin blinked, because, _Jesus_ , that seemed to have hit very close to the mark, because Mikoshiba's expression turned to one of extreme loathing, all gritted teeth and stony eyes, full of anger suddenly and inexplicably directed inwards. "That's... probably not wrong, either." He looked up at Rin, saw his startled expression. "I look bad, don't I?"

"You look... very unhappy," Rin admitted.

"I'm sorry."

_*Again* with the needless apology_ , Rin thought.

Mikoshiba eyed the drink in front of Rin. "May I? I left mine behind." Rin nodded and Mikoshiba took the glass and downed half the beer at a go and shuddered. "Yuck, warm beer. Have you been carrying this around the whole time?"

"No, I left my glass behind a couple of times, but they always gave me a new one." Rin looked around. "Feel better? We can leave, if you want." Rin had had enough of this place.

"No, we should stay a while longer," Mikoshiba looked around, unsure.

"What the fuck for?" Rin asked exasperatedly. "I've had enough socializing for today, and from the looks of it, so have you. Let's get out of here."

Mikoshiba didn't argue, looked relieved instead. "Right. Let's go."

**  
  
**

\------------------

Rin sighed with relief when he saw his apartment in the distance. Finally! This night would soon be over. He eyed Mikoshiba who had been walking silently beside him from the train station, brooding about something the entire way home.

_Say something_ , he thought for the umpteenth time.

He had tried to ask him about what was wrong, but Mikoshiba had remained stubbornly, adamantly quiet. He also thought about that old adage about being careful about what one wished for, and regretted all the times he'd wished for Mikoshiba to just shut up, because now that Mikoshiba was finally serious and silent for more than five minutes, he found himself hoping that Mikoshiba would revert back to his old, loud, cheerful self instead.

They reached the lift lobby of the apartment and Rin turned to wish him good night. It struck him that this was the end of their forced buddy time together and they would go back to just being team mates tomorrow.

Mikoshiba spoke up first. "Matsuoka..., no," he shook his head as if to clear it. "Rin."

Rin startled, hearing Mikoshiba say his given name for the first time.

Mikoshiba sighed softly and said, "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Rin asked, sharply. _Stop apologising!_

Mikoshiba opened his mouth, about to say something, then closed it and frowned, thinking.

"Spit it out!" snapped Rin, glaring. He was tired of all this strange and confusing behaviour from Mikoshiba, who frowned too much and spoke too little and who should have been the most straightforward person he knew.

"Ha!" Mikoshiba blinked at Rin’s angry expression and started laughing...

_and Rin had to fight down the urge to punch him in return because laughing at a cranky and confused person was an inappropriate response if there ever was one, and Mikoshiba was proving to be the king of inappropriate responses so far..._

__

But Mikoshiba wasn't done apparently, because he started walking forward, and Rin of course stepped back to avoid colliding into him,  and then they were in the elevator and there was nowhere to go...

Then, Mikoshiba was hugging Rin tightly to him, Rin stiffening in the unexpected embrace, because everything had stopped making sense a while ago.

"Hey, Rin?" He heard Mikoshiba mumble into his hair. "No matter what happens, I want you to know that I always have been, and will be your friend."

_What?_

He felt a hand lift his chin and then Mikoshiba kissed him. It was warm, it was desperate and it was deliberate...

Then the kiss ended and their foreheads were pressed together and Rin was giddy from the rush of blood to his head.

Mikoshiba was whispering something into his ear, “...and good luck for tomorrow.”

Then Mikoshiba was outside the lift and waving and the door was sliding shut... Rin glanced at the lit-up button that Mikoshiba must have pressed… And Rin couldn't believe what had just happened. _The insane fucker was running away!_ He threw himself at the door, yelling, "MIKOSHIBA, you ASSHOLE!" almost deafening himself in the small enclosed space. He glared at Mikoshiba through the small glass window in the door as the lift started to rise and Mikoshiba was saying something that Rin couldn't hear and then he was gone from view, leaving Rin staring in disbelief at his own reflection in the window.

When Rin returned to the ground floor, Mikoshiba was nowhere to be seen. He went to Mikoshiba's apartment, spurred on by the momentum of his ire, but he was not there either.

I'll punch him when I see him tomorrow, Rin decided.

**  
  
**

\------------------

**Day 8, Monday**

 

Mikoshiba didn't turn up for school the next day.

He didn't answer any of Rin's calls to his cell phone, or replied any of his messages either.

He didn't show up to the training session for the Tokyo University Swim Team.

Rin swore at Mikoshiba mentally as he got ready for training, torn between equal parts anger, worry and concern. _You don't have to go to such extremes to avoid me, do you? Or did something happen to you?_

Rin's concern for Mikoshiba was put on the back burner temporarily as he stepped into the University natatorium. The swim team's coach, Iwazaki, didn't remark on Mikoshiba's absence even as he welcomed Rin back from his hiatus.

Rin's anxious feelings disappeared as he stepped up to the starting block. _I've really missed this place,_ he thought happily. And his condition seemed to be great today. The break might really have done him good after all.

And the pool was cool and wet with the viscosity of water, not oil, and when he finished his laps, he knew that his times were back and the coach was waving at him to come out of the water.

He smiled as he showed Rin the stopwatch and Rin fought to keep his relief under control with his results. "You've recovered your form just in time,  Matsuoka. I won't have to drop you from the list of recommended swimmers for the WUG selections after all."

_Yes, he was in, he had a chance!_ He guessed he owed Mikoshiba an apology.  _If he got to see him,_ he frowned, his elation slightly dampened.

 

"Thanks, Coach," Rin said and turned to go. He remembered something, and turned back at the door. "Hey, Coach. Does this mean I'm allowed to go back to the gym to train now?"

 

Iwazaki looked at him strangely. "Of course! Why would you need to ask?"

 

"Coach, didn't you tell Mikoshiba-san that I was banned from the pool and the gym?" That was what Mikoshiba had said, right? _It couldn't be...?_

 

"Why would I say such a thing?” Iwazaki's confusion was too real to be contrived. “You must've been mistaken."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A picture of Seijuurou as he was dressed for the goukon.  
> http://triomaxwell.tumblr.com/post/97954033305/mikoshiba-seijuurou-in-casual-dress
> 
> http://youtu.be/VI10vD5fxbo  
> Watch this bboy video for an idea on Sei's style of breakdancing, as well as what Rin and the others saw in the dance studio.  
> Because only he would be fearless and showy enough, plus having the strength, agility and reflexes to pull this off. 
> 
> Drinking age in Japan is twenty years old, but it is not strictly enforced. You can get beer and wine from vending machines after all.
> 
> The function of a goukon is to meet people and possibly pair up with a likely partner. For this particular one in the story, it's just that Rin wasn't interested.


	6. The Ones Left Behind (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do tell Mikoshiba-kun to come in by tomorrow to clear this," Toudou-san smiled, lifting up the clipboard with its sheaf of JSF/WUG application forms. "It wouldn't do for him to be the only one that's left out of the selections.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JSF: Japan Swimming Federation
> 
> WUG: World University Games
> 
> Special thanks to Tumblr user imma-go-now for pre-reading my chapters before I hit 'Publish'. >.

 

_“Mikoshiba narrowed his eyes as he stood. “Where are you going?”_

_Rin ripped his towel off, feeling like defiance was the only thing left to him now. “I’m going to swim.”_

_“Mikoshiba shook his head. “Nuh-uh, you’re not. You’ve been kicked out of the pool. And you’re not allowed into the gym.”_

_Rin was aghast and exploded. “Huh?! You’re crazy! You can’t do that!”_

_“Not me, coach’s orders. Any athlete knows that hitting a plateau, even a slump, is normal, but you’re not going to break out of it with all that negative energy you’ve got bottled in you right now. Coach says to take a day or a week off. Do something else. With me. ” Mikoshiba stated._

_Rin stared at Mikoshiba like he was crazy. “ But I don’t have anything else I want to do.”_

_For some reason, Mikoshiba grinned._

_“How about you learn how to dance in the meantime?”_

 

\--------------

 

Rin left the University Swimming Arena and dialled Mikoshiba’s number again. He stared at the ground as he strode along the path, willing the other person to pick up the call.

 

_Pick up, Mikoshiba! There is no time!_

 

\--------------

 

_"Matsuoka-kun!" Toudou-san, the advisor to the University swim team hailed him, waving a clipboard. "A moment with you, please!"_

_"Hai, sensei?" Rin turned to the bespectacled man who had scouted him._

_"It's good to see that you're back!"_ _Toudou-san smiled kindly at him. "_ _Your injury's not giving you any trouble, I hope?"_

_"My injury?" Rin parroted blankly. But I'm not injured?_

_He was about to say so when Toudou-san continued on, "Yes! I was so worried when I heard that both you and Mikoshiba-kun had suffered sprains. So close to selections too! I heard all about it when Mikoshiba-kun applied for the leave of absence for the both of you."_

_Rin's words froze in his throat. (Being scouted by a University for swimming included, among its clauses and conditions, a commitment to training and a limited number of days of leave allowed due to exams and sickness. Taking absence without leave jeopardized the scholarship for subsequent semesters and could mean being dropped from consideration from future tournaments. Coach-sanctioned leave was different. A coach could allow/force a member to sit out of training, to recover from injuries, insubordination and the like.)_

_"Is Mikoshiba-kun still not recovered, though? There're some forms that need to be submitted before the selections next week." Toudou-san shuffled through some papers and passed one to Rin. It was a JSF form for WUG applicants to indicate the event they were trying out for, their achievements and best times in recent trainings or tournaments as well as an indemnity form. “The other members that have received Iwazaki-san’s recommendations have already submitted theirs.”_

_“Do tell Mikoshiba-kun to come in by tomorrow to clear this," Toudou-san smiled, lifting up the clipboard with its sheaf of forms. "It wouldn't do for him to be the only one that's left out of the selections.”_

 

\----------------

 

_"We're sorry, the caller you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please, try again later..."_

 

Rin swore under his breath as he terminated the call. Mikoshiba's apartment had no land line, so he was going back there now for lack of other places to check.

 

What if he wasn’t there though? Rin guessed that if he really wanted to avoid Mikoshiba, home was the last place he’d be.

 

Rin snarled, cowing the little voice in his head into silence. _You’re not helping, hello~!?_

 

He had no other leads. No one in the swim team had seen Mikoshiba lately, except Rin. He flushed at the idea of describing to anyone how their time together had gone. Especially last night…

 

_Why the fuck had Mikoshiba did what he had done?_

 

_"Geez, Matsuoka,” Mikoshiba leaned forward, looking earnestly at him from across the table. “I'm trying to help you here. Don't you want to improve your times? You might not aware of it, but Coach has had his eye on us both for quite a while now, but even he can't help if your times don't make the cut."_

 

He hadn’t doubted Mikoshiba’s sincerity in his offer to help. Despite the apparent subterfuge, it hadn’t been for a prank.

 

If Mikoshiba had helped him out under orders of Coach Iwazaki, that would have been fine, he guessed. If he had helped him out of his own volition, that smacked of too much initiative, even for a take-action guy like Mikoshiba.  Even when Mikoshiba was Captain of Samezuka, he had never directly interfered with anyone’s training like this. Frankly, what business was it to Mikoshiba whether Rin self-destructed through overtraining or not?

 

_“We belong to the same team. We could be the best team together, right?"_

 

Maybe it was because they were both teammates? Maybe Mikoshiba was just flat out insane. And now Rin owed Mikoshiba to find him before he disqualified himself out of selection for the Games by no-show. Or maybe he just wanted to shake answers out of his recalcitrant ex-Captain, or just shake him on principle for being so infuriating/baffling.

 

For that, Rin had to find him first. And just where had he gone?

 

_“I had a friend who was just like you. So, it’s pretty easy to guess what you’ll do, really?”_

 

That was what Mikoshiba had said after checkmating him that time he had run away, in a way that practically bordered on psychic. Unfortunately, Rin had no one that was just like Mikoshiba, except Mikoshiba himself, and apparently he didn’t know his ex-captain all that well, so he couldn’t begin to guess where the missing man had gone, or how he would act.

 

Did he know anyone who could help in locating Mikoshiba if the apartment was as empty as he had feared, though? _Momo? Ai?_ He doubted anyone in Samezuka right now would know where Mikoshiba was in Tokyo, though? Mikoshiba probably had lots of friends to hole up with, and Rin hadn't even bothered to take down one number from the goukon last night...

 

He paused, hearing an electronic gunshot echo in the distance. _The kind used to start races and marathons_. His eyes widened. _Races! Track and Field! He had totally forgotten!_

 

He changed direction and headed, almost running, towards the Athletics Field. 

 

\--------------------

 

The stadium was filled with recreational runners and members from various sports clubs doing roadwork round the all-weather track. Rin’s attention was entirely on one club in particular, the university track and field team. The first three lanes of the track at the far side of the field had been roped off and hurdles set up. As he went down the steps two at a time, he saw someone start a running approach towards the sandpit for the long jump. _Nishiyama-san_ , he identified the blond girl from the goukon last night, her last two strides impressively long before launching herself off the board. Her form and angle during take-off were good, and she covered a truly impressive distance before plowing into the smooth sand. A helper ran forward with a measuring tape, taking down the distance for the jump. She nodded on hearing the result, brushing away the sand sticking to her legs and shorts; a satisfactory distance, Rin guessed. He hurried on towards the hurdlers and sprinters.

 

The runners stood in neat details, waiting for their turn. To his relief, he spotted Kimura Sayaka loping back to the starting blocks with her detail. She was wearing a long sleeved black shirt and long compression tights under a green running top and black running shorts, light shoes with running spikes. She called encouragement out to the others getting ready for their turn to run, kicking out her legs.

 

“Kimura Sayaka-san!” Rin called out, waving from the side of the track, trying to get her attention.

 

A few runners looked at him curiously and someone pointed Rin out to the girl. She swatted at a friend who said something teasing to her just before she made her way over to him. “Hello? You are?”  She frowned, tucking her fringe behind her ear, trying to place him. “You’re from the goukon last night, with Seijuurou?”

 

Great, she remembered him. “Yes. I'm Matsuoka Rin, from last night. Seijuurou-san’s teammate in the swim team. I really need to talk to you about him.”

 

“Sei-chan?" He had her attention. "What about him? Did anything happen?” she asked, frowning.

 

"Uh, he was behaving really strangely after he spoke to you last night? He was perfectly fine before,” Rin struggled to find the words to explain. “The way he said goodbye last night was strange.” _And how._ “And he didn’t return home last night. He’s been missing the whole day today. His phone’s out, too. I’m... worried about him. I don’t know if he’ll do something stupid, he was that strange, okay?”

 

“You think that…, Oh! Oh dear,” Sayaka’s hand flew to her mouth, too late to hide her shocked expression. She stared at the ground, looking grim, then shook her head. “No, impossible. Sei-chan won’t do anything stupid.”

 

 _Right, nothing stupid_ , Rin thought. _How about something ridiculously out of character?_  He thought back to the kiss and hug. _And how was she so sure about what Mikoshiba would or wouldn’t do?_ “Do you know Seijuurou-san very well?”

 

“We were in elementary and middle school together,” she replied, looking wistful. “My brother was his best friend.”

 

Oh. Rin frowned. How should he respond?

 

  
“I’m not sure how I can help you, though?” Sayaka said, turning to look at her team mates, as if trying to get away from Rin. “I really don’t know where Sei-chan is now.”

 

“Wait, Kimura-san!” Rin blurted out. “Seijuurou-san has been helping me out the past few days, so I owe him, okay? If he doesn’t come back by tomorrow, he’s out of the World University Games. I really think his weird behaviour was triggered by something that was said between the both of you last night. So, please,” Rin paused, taking a deep breath. “I really, really, _really,_ need your help. Even if it’s just to understand why he was so depressed after talking to you.”

 

“Why do you think I can help?” she asked, her tone more than a little defensive. "I don't think anything I tell you will help you to find him."

 

“Maybe, if I understood what happened to make that sunshine guy  _sad_?” Rin fought to keep his voice even. “ Depressed enough to run away in the first place? You and I both know he's not that type but only you know why last night made him _change_.”

 

Sayaka looked pained. _She does know something!_  

 

“Can I ask, what happened in January?” Rin was tired of beating around the bush, and just wanted to know already, dammit.

 

Sayaka exhaled slowly, painfully, like Rin had drawn blood with his question. She looked down, her eyes closed. "My brother killed himself." 

 

Oh. "I'm ... sorry," Rin sucked in a breath. So, her brother was best friends with Mikoshiba? He thought back to their conversation last night. Her brother suicided and Mikoshiba quit swimming... “Was your brother a swimmer?” He tried to remember if there was anything in the news about a swimmer in January.

 

“My brother’s a _sprinter_ ," Sayaka corrected him rather fiercely, "in _track and field_ , like _me_.” Sayaka's eyes flashed with something that looked like affronted pride.

 

 _So, they weren’t team mates? But...  Why would this result in him running away?_ “Was that why Seijuurou-san quit the National Team, then?”

 

Sayaka's frown deepened and she looked distraught. Rin felt bad. _Whatever happened must have been very painful and unpleasant._ But this was definitely part of the reason why Mikoshiba had disappeared. He remembered Mikoshiba’s expression of self-loathing.

 

_“Something unforgivable, huh? That's... probably not wrong, either.”_

 

_How did Mikoshiba feel himself responsible?_

 

  
“Hey, you know?” Sayaka spoke up. She looked a little defeated. “If you really want to hear this, this is going to take a while.”

 

"I just want to help Seijuurou-san," Rin reminded her. "We're teammates." He blinked as she looked into his face searchingly. 

 

“Fine," she finally said. "I’ll ask to be excused from training, then we’ll find someplace to talk.”


	7. The Ones Left Behind (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Then, when we got back, he wasn’t there anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what to say here.  
> This is not a happy chapter. A suicide of an OC of mine is referenced here.  
> This chapter might cause some of you to feel sad?

Two cans of isotonic drink rattled in the service slot of the vending machine. Sayaka retrieved them and handed one to Rin. “Here,” she said.

 

“Thanks,” he murmured.

 

“You’re welcome,” she said, popping the tab and sipping from it. She sat down on the stadium seat beside him and both looked out at the people engaged in various activities around the track in silence.

 

Rin fidgeted, shifting the drink from one hand to another. Sayaka would start talking when she was ready, he knew, but waiting was _hard_. He glanced at his mobile phone and contemplated calling Mikoshiba again. Sayaka caught him looking at the screen, empty of notifications.

 

"Seijuurou disappeared once before,” she spoke up softly, “after my brother's funeral. I couldn't contact him either. He came back after a few days, though."

 

If she had meant to be comforting, she wasn't succeeding. "He doesn't have a few days to be missing this time? The deadline for selections is tomorrow," Rin reminded her.

 

"Maybe, he doesn't want to be in the Games?" Sayaka mused out loud.

 

"Huh?" Rin looked at her, momentarily confused. Mikoshiba had spoken about participating in the Games with Rin with such enthusiasm, it hadn't crossed his mind that Mikoshiba could have been pretending about that, too. "Why would he take himself out of the Games?"

 

"The same reason he took himself out of the National Team? He must still be feeling himself responsible for my brother all this while. Even though he should know that he's not." She dented the drink can in her hand in frustration.

 

Rin looked at her anguished expression and remembered Mikoshiba's expression from the night before. He had accused Mikoshiba of looking guilty in front of Sayaka, of having done her wrong and how the accusation had seemed to strike home. 

 

"Sei-chan was the last person to see my brother alive."

 

Rin shook his head, trying to stop himself from the baseless speculations, now that Sayaka was speaking.

 

"Sorry, I’ll start from the beginning, not the end." She took a deep breath and started. "My brother, his name..., was Kimura Susumu. He was an excellent runner, winning his races in almost every athletic meet he attended since he was nine. He was earmarked for sprints and hurdles since the fifth grade and scouted for the Youth Squad at thirteen.”

 

“Ah,” Rin murmured. It was more painful than he had thought it would be, listening to the friend of a friend being described in the past tense. 

 

“Seijuurou and I were in track and field too. We used to run everywhere together. In fifth grade, Sei-chan showed more promise in swimming than running. Susumu encouraged him to make the switch. They had this mad idea to swim and run in the Olympics together.”

 

“Both trained very hard, Sei in swimming and my brother in running. My brother got accepted to a high school in Tokyo, the best two for athletics in the nation,” Sayaka’s voice had a weird ring of pride in it. “Sei-chan… didn’t get scouted for, but he managed to get into a high school known for swimming.”

  
  
“Samezuka High School,” Rin spoke up. He looked at her, flushing a little at interrupting her. “He was Captain of the swim team there and our best swimmer.”

 

Sayaka looked surprised, then smiled. “We used to be fiercely proud of our sport too. ‘Swimming’s better, no, running’s better!’” she mimicked two children arguing with each other and smiled sadly at the memory. “My brother aspired to be the fastest thing on land, and Sei-chan, the fastest thing in the water.”

 

“I lost touch with Sei-chan in high school,” she sighed. “But my brother didn’t. They’d update each other about their times and their results in their tournaments all through high school. Later, it turned out they both got scouted for the same University, Sei for swimming and my brother for Track and Field, and they met up again last year. Sei-chan got invited to the National Team last year too.”

 

“My brother came home really excited at how much Sei-chan had improved and raving about how hard he must've worked. Then,” she paused, “something changed, then too. He still represented in overseas tournaments but his times had plateaued. He stopped placing in races. And it was around that time that Sei-chan started winning his races overseas. Susumu started feeling pressured by Sei-chan, of all people. The timing was all...," she paused for a moment, biting her lower lip, "wrong."

 

“Susumu had already injured himself earlier through overwork, but it became worse after a tournament in June,” she said softly. “Achilles tendon, right ankle,” She tapped her own ankle. “Sei-chan knew my brother was hurt, but not how badly. Susumu had kept how bad it was to himself, kept denying there was a problem. Athlete’s mentality, you know?” She huffed quietly. “‘Pain is temporary, quitting is permanent’ and all that. Susumu kept training through the pain, taking medication, hoping to improve. In the end, even the track and field coach benched him for three weeks to rest and recover, but he still sneaked off to train on his own. Sei-chan caught him out and about in the gym alone, but my brother convinced him it was all part of his training menu."

 

Rin stared at her, jaw set, unsure of how to feel. There were a few parallels between Kimura Susumu and him. The reasons behind Mikoshiba’s actions were becoming a lot clearer now.

 

Sayaka hugged her knees to herself and mused out loud, “He'd have needed to rest for a month, maybe six weeks at least? But that would mean missing out on selections for the Asian Games in September. He really shouldn’t have attempted the Games," she glanced at Rin, checking for censure. "But Sei-chan had qualified for the games too. It would have been their first overseas tournament together," she looked out the field, face set.

 

"He injured himself badly on the first day, in the hundred and ten metre hurdles. His best event too. Crashed into the first hurdle, instead of clearing it. His Achilles' tendon _broke_ on the first jump.” Rin tensed and felt sick to his stomach, in sympathy or _something akin to horror and despair,_  over a crippling injury suffered by a fellow athlete. Sayaka stared soberly at her knee, rubbing at it, and Rin suddenly realized that she probably had an injury too? “That was the first time he didn’t finish a race.” Her mouth twisted, then she went on. "The fact that Sei-chan witnessed everything didn't help."

 

“We visited many doctors and specialists for his injury. After all their advice, my brother chose to operate on it, to fix, to join the broken tendon together and start rehabilitation.”

 

“For an injury like that, doctors estimated a year, maybe two, but there was no guarantee that he'd be able to run like before. He'd have been able to live a normal life at least." Sayaka's voice, already strained, started to crack. "He had to use crutches to get everywhere at first, but he threw himself into getting better. He swore that if he couldn't run in the 2016 Olympics, he'd make it for the 2020 Games. Then, after winter break, he...,” Sayaka’s voice broke completely and she shrugged, hunching in on herself.

 

“He…?” Rin asked, warily.

 

Sayaka crushed the empty can in her hand. “Yes,” she replied simply.

 

“But why does Seijuurou feel responsible?” It didn’t sound like Mikoshiba had hurt anyone after all, but then, why did he feel _guilty_?

 

“My mother," Sayaka pushed out, hoarsely, "she's one reason. She was irrational at the time," Sayaka admitted, ducking her head, "but she blamed Seijuurou for being so careless about Susumu's feelings, for flaunting his achievements. For making him feel that 'normal' wasn't good enough.” Sayaka swallowed and continued, frowning. "She’s the main reason, probably, why he ran away after the funeral.”

 

 _But Mikoshiba never brags when he wins._ Rin frowned too. _And he wouldn’t flaunt them in front of a guy who can’t run._

 

“Rehabilitation wasn’t going well enough for my brother. It broke Susumu when he realized he wouldn’t be able to run anything like before. He felt like he was being left behind? ” Sayaka put the bent can on the floor. “The night it happened? Sei-chan was overseas for a tournament. My brother contacted him via Skype to talk. Sei-chan was happy to be able to talk to him. So when my brother asked Sei-chan how he had done, Sei-chan told him. ' _Four golds.'_."

 

Sayaka flexed her fingers, then clenched her hands into fists. “ _He asked_.”

 

“I think Sei-chan also blames himself for not noticing that Susumu was distressed all this while, but no one did? My parents certainly didn’t. _I didn’t._ ” She looked at Rin, looking tearful and angry. “I’d gone out for training as usual that day. He smiled at me and told me to do my best. He even said, ‘ _See you later_ ’,” she shook her head, trying to dispel the memory. “‘ _See you later’_ ," she cried. "‘ _Have a great day_ ’, ‘ _Talk to you when you get back from overseas._ ’”

 

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, and covered her face with her hands, shoulders bowed with a crushing grief and an indescribable regret. 

  
“Then, when we got back, _he wasn’t there anymore_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew two pictures of Kimura Susumu. 
> 
> http://triomaxwell.tumblr.com/post/97388476710/kimura-susumu-an-oc-for-heartbreaker
> 
> The title "Survivor's Guilt" for Chapter 2 referred to Seijuurou, not Rin.
> 
> http://www.currentpsychiatry.com/fileadmin/cp_archive/pdf/1107/1107CP_OConnell.pdf  
> Suicide ideation is actually very common among Tier 1 college athletes (All college athletes have a hard time balancing their rigorous athletic training and their academic goals, but to be able to compete at the National/international level and maintain a Tier 1 Scholarship is a task that not only tests skill but commitment), even if they've not suffered crippling injury. High expectations, juggling college grades and training menus, sacrifice (diet/time/outings/events/birthdays with family/friends), injury, fear of disappointment, even loss of identity ("I am a runner!"), lead to a lot of stress in athletes. They're also expected to be tougher, superhuman in their endurance, to suck it up, to carry on despite the pain, to not complain. Coupled with the fact that many coaches aren't trained to recognise depression in athletes, makes for a horrible statistic. 
> 
> Like Sei said in Chapter 5, "Taking a break isn’t giving up. Just like training non-stop isn't toughness." 
> 
> It's okay to ask for help. It's okay to admit you hurt. Please, ask for help if you need it. Even if you're not an athlete, too.
> 
> I welcome comments on my writing/story.


	8. Break Dance, Not Hearts (Chapter One, Mikoshiba Seijuurou's POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikoshiba Seijuurou, Kimura Susumu... and how Seijuurou came to be at the pool when Rin was training alone in Chapter One.
> 
> A lot of survivor hurt and survivor guilt is referenced here.
> 
> Thanks to imma-monster-now on Tumblr for reading the first draft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JSF: Japan Swimming Federation  
> WUG: World University Games
> 
> battery bunny: The Duracell / Energizer / National battery bunny that was used in advertisements in the early 1980's ... that just kept going and going and going.  
> Sei probably wouldn't get the reference, since I peg his birth year at 1995.

Mikoshiba Seijuurou stood before his open locker and pulled off his shirt, folding it before putting it away neatly on top of his jeans. He reached into his gym bag for the pouch that contained his goggles and swim cap... and checked his cell phone out of habit for any last minute messages.

 

_(“Training's starting soon, Seijuurou! Gotta fly! Good swimming!”_

_“Me too, Susumu! See you later! Good running!”)_

 

The screen was empty of any new notifications.

 

What was he expecting?

 

"Oi, Seijuurou! Ready to go?" Ogiwara Eiji, an individual medley swimmer in Sei's year, closed the locker beside him. "Hey," he asked, catching sight of Sei's face. "What’s the matter?"

 

"Eh? It's nothing!" Sei laughed, tossing the silent phone onto his bag and shutting the locker door with a quiet *snick*. "Let's go."

 

\-----

 

"Mikoshiba! You're next! Get ready!" Coach Iwazaki called out. "Front crawl!"

  
  
Sei tucked his hair under his swim cap and pulled on his goggles before stepping onto the starting block for his timed trial. Once there, instinct and muscle memory took over and he leapt into his dive as soon the signal was given, his body automatically knowing when to surface, how many strokes it took before the turn, when to speed up for the all-out final stretch. He straightened up as soon as he touched the wall, pulled off his cap and goggles, looked up at the coach. Iwazaki nodded and motioned him out of the pool to wait with the rest of the swim team who were attending that training session.

 

He pulled himself out of the pool, barely breathing hard, barely feeling anything.

  
  
He glanced at the list of times as he walked behind Iwazaki, more an act of habit than because he really cared about how he had done. He was still the fastest swimmer, barring any breakthroughs by his current teammates.

 

“Hey, Seijuurou!” Sakurai Kouta, a freestyle swimmer in fourth year, hailed him. “Great time! You’re really unbeatable in the water!”

 

“Thanks, Sakurai,” Sei smiled. He glanced at Sakurai’s face, trying to see whether his words were sincere or covering hurt feelings with forced cheer. _One never knew..._ He laughed and clapped Sakurai encouragingly on the shoulder. “You swam very well too, buddy!”

 

_(“Once again, congratulations, Seijuurou!”_

_“Thanks, hahaha! Hey, you seem more cheerful now! Are you finally getting some results from therapy?”_

_“Oh yeah, I’m great. Everything’s fine now.”_

_“Then, it’s just a matter of time till you’ll be running like before, right? You’ll make it for the 2020 Olympics, right?”_

_“… … Yeah.”_

_“That’s great! Ahahaha~! Eh, Susumu? What’s wrong…?”_

_“Whoa! Look at the time! It’s getting late here! I guess... this is goodbye.”_

_“A~~~hh? Are you going off already? It’s like we’ve barely spoken!”_

_“Hahaha! My fault, for calling at such a late hour! … … Hey, Seijuurou?”_

_“Hmmm?”_

_“I just want you to know, I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you before. I’ll always be grateful for everything you’ve done for me.”_

_“H~~~~uh? What’s this? Why are you mentioning this now? And I’ve not done anything, really? In fact, you’ve done a lot more for me?”_

_“Haha! No, you’ve done lots. Hey, I /really/ have to go now. Ahahaha! What kind of face is that, Seijuurou? You *know* I’ll see you on Monday.”)_   

 

Sei swallowed against the lump in his throat.

 

_When he visited Susumu’s place after he got back, he had found himself crashing Susumu’s wake instead, his souvenirs thrown back at him by Susumu’s mother._

 

  _But..., you said... ... ?_

 

_Why...?_

 

_Susumu? I don't understand..._

 

\-----

 

Despite the landmine that had tilted Sei’s life off-balance and upside down..., life had gone on around him like nothing was wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

It only *felt* like a bomb had gone off in his chest. There was no injury to justify the pain, no trail of blood. So, everyone treated Sei like nothing was wrong. 

 

The sun still rose, still set, the days still passed without a break, like *nothing* was wrong.

 

So, despite a lot of staggering, and some limping, Sei managed to pick himself up and carry on like nothing was wrong, too.

 

Even though * _everything*_ was wrong.

 

Susumu's absence hung about him like a hurting, missing limb, and it seemed like he was forever waiting in anticipation for an impossible event.  

 

_If you want something badly enough, the universe will conspire to make it happen, right?_

_I want to see you again, Susumu!_

_(“You *know* I’ll see you on Monday.” )_

 

It seemed like he was waiting for Monday everyday.

 

Sei looked for Susumu in the hallways of the University as the students walked to and from classes. He thought about his silent phone, and about the many unsent messages saved in ‘Drafts’. He thought about the darkened Skype icon that would never light up again, and all the things he wanted to say and the questions he desperately wanted to ask.

 

 _Why, you liar? Why did you make such a decision alone? Why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you tell me the truth? That you were hurting? That your injury wasn’t getting better? That you felt alone? Wasn’t I a good enough friend? Did you think I wouldn’t understand? That I wouldn’t wait for you? That I'd think less of you if we couldn't run and swim together? Why did you call me that night?_ _Was I at fault?_ _Did I hurt you?  I did? How did I hurt you? I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!_ _Why did you look so happy then? Should I have lied about my results that day? If only I had! Would you still be here if I did? What could I have done differently? What I? Should I? Was I? Why you? Did you? Would you?_

_Why? Why? Why?_

 

_WHY?_

 

It seemed like he was waiting for Monday * _everyday*_.

 

\-----

 

He could stop swimming. Especially since competitions and times had lost their meaning.

 

Resigning quietly from the National Team had been easy; it was regrettable but members dropped out all the time, due to a conflict of commitments, and there were any number of hungry swimmers lining up to take his place, really.

 

He could stop swimming totally. But he didn't. Of course, his scholarship had something to do with it, and breaking it would cause no end of inconvenience to his family, but it was more because the habits and discipline formed from juggling swimming and studies for over half his life had proven impossible to break.

 

He still packed his bag everyday in preparation for training, made his way unerringly to the Swimming Arena or the gym, and followed the University swim team's training regiment conscientiously. He still watched his form as he swam, watched his technique with the correct weight set during gym, and his diet. Still swam for hours at a time, chasing after the unchanging dark blue line along the pool floor, losing count of the the turns and almost forgetting the existence of any other colour but the blue. He still attended classes, turned in his assignments. And he still danced. More than before, filling up his extra free time. Against the local breakers, and even amusingly, against the gymnastics team. A few crews invited him to join them, but Sei declined. It gradually turned into a fairly acceptable kind of limbo for him. The secret was to keep moving, stop thinking, so the wolves named ‘Guilt’ and ‘Regret’ wouldn’t find him when he moved. He thought less when he swam, he didn’t think when he danced.

 

Anything, as long as he didn't hurt so badly.

 

 _Everything was fine,_  he told himself.

 

_Everything was fine._

 

Sometimes, he even believed it. _Fake it till you make it, right?_

 

He heard his teammates talking about what they'd like to do after training, hang out a bit, maybe, chill a while?

 

_(Floppy black hair bouncing as he ran, flying down the street, green eyes sparkling challenge._

_‘Wait for me!’_

_‘Me, wait? Ha!’ A flash of white teeth against dark skin, that carefree grin tossed over a shoulder. ‘Why don’t you catch up with me instead?’)_

 

He took a step forward... and saw the starting block before him. Oh, was it his turn already?

 

_Oh yeah. He'd been left behind._

 

"On your mark, Mikoshiba!" Iwazaki called again. "This time, Butterfly!"

 

And he dived back into the blue, letting his instincts take over again. If he swam hard enough, maybe he could catch up with yesterday, or leave the painful bits of himself behind.

 

\-----

 

Sei stepped out of the locker room, hair still slightly wet from the shower, the last to leave. He wore black trackpants and the red University Swim Team polo tee, gym bag slung across his back. He had hung back in the pool to complete his private menu of drills for strength and conditioning; they had been assigned to him by Yukiko-san, the sports physiotherapist attached to the National Team.

 

_("It’s great that you aren’t a klutz on land, Mikoshiba-san! Beach volleyball, tennis and breakdancing? And all that swimming to boot! Your gym output is impressive too!" Yukiko-san raised her eyebrows, staring at the screen as her fingers flew across the keyboard, typing updates into Sei’s personal record on her laptop. "A real battery bunny, you are!"_

_'Battery bunny?' Sei had smiled, not understanding the reference. The portable printer beside her whirred to life and spewed the printed pages on demand. Yukiko-san tapped the papers straight, stapled them together, and handed the neat stack over to him._

_‘Here you go! I won’t ask you to increase your dry-land conditioning since you’re already doing so much and seem synergetic and mobile enough. Oustanding, really. These pool drills will help you with respiratory training as well as strengthen, balance your shoulders, back, spine and hips. They’re largely preventative care for the muscles, soft tissues and joints that you'd tend to overuse the most.’_

_‘Gotta take care of yourself for the long run, you know?’)_

 

"Mikoshiba, over here!" Coach Iwazaki hailed him, juggling papers and his record book. "I need to talk to you."

 

Sei went over, a pleasant expression schooled upon his face.

 

"Hey, Mikoshiba, you've not been in your best form for some time," Iwazaki observed, looking up from his records. "Like your motivation's been way down. Is anything wrong?"

 

 _Ah, Coach had noticed?_  "Just lots of assignments and deadlines, sir," Sei laughed sheepishly, as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "It's hard to stay motivated when all the deadlines seem to be piling up on us."

 

Sei found that it was getting easier to repeat the considerate lie; Indeed, it was a much more socially acceptable answer than, say, " _My best friend killed himself and I may have been the trigger that tipped him over the edge, ahahahaha!"_  The truth was an inconsiderate thing to say because of the awkward silence that would invariably follow; no one ever knew what to say next, and nothing could be said that would make him feel better anyway.

 

"Ahaha? Isn’t that just the tough life of a university student nowadays? Hahaha!" Iwazaki laughed and smacked him consolingly on the shoulder. Sei took the hit and felt… nothing. _The wolves in his chest hurt more_. And Iwazaki was still talking cheerfully. "Well, maybe this will motivate you? Look! This just came in!" He handed Sei a piece of paper. Sei accepted, his lips thinning as he saw what the document was about.

 

it was a JSF form to apply for the selections to represent in the World University Games for 2015.

 

Sei forced himself not to slump forward, arms wrapped around his middle. _This is nothing! Nothing's wrong!_  

 

 _Oh, Susumu. It's happening, it's here. It's finally here. I'm ready to get their attention, see?_   He looked up from the form. _See?_

 

He looked into Iwazaki's smiling face.

 

"Thank you, sir," he managed to say instead. Iwazaki probably thought he was all choked up with excitement.

 

For Iwazaki didn't notice his frozen expression, cheerfully going on instead, "You’ve earned it! And~~~, you're the first in the team to know! Isn't it great?”

 

He clapped Sei on the shoulder again. "We look forward to good results from you!"

 

Sei smiled, remaining still despite the wolves ripping away at his heart.

 

“Oh, and can you do me a favour?" Sei blinked, trying to focus as Iwazaki handed over something else. "These are the names of the others who qualify to go. Do you see them in your classes? If you do, please tell them to see Toudou-san for their forms. Eh, Toudou-san!" He called out, spotting the swim-team advisor. "A moment with you, please!"

 

Sei found himself holding onto the record book in which Iwazaki kept track of the training regiments and times of the University swim team. He exhaled slowly, trying to remember what the instruction was. _Oh, yeah. Tell others about forms if I see them. Right._  He numbly studied the short list of names that had apparently qualified alongside with him for the selections.

 

_Yoshida, Sakai, Ogata and Hanamoto from the Women's Team. Right. And him, Sakashita, Ogiwara, Uchida and ... Matsuoka Rin from the Men's Team._

 

 _Eh._ He frowned, because Matsuoka's name had a question mark and an 'X' annotated next to it.

 

 _What does this mean? Was he down for selections or not? Aren’t his times good enough?_ He recalled the times of his impatient, shark-toothed junior, scheduled for an earlier training session that day. _No, Matsuoka's Samezuka times should qualify him for selections. So, why...?_

 

He casually turned the page over to Matsuoka's records... and hissed through his teeth as he tracked the worsening trend in times.

 

 _Wow. What happened to the boy who swam so blazingly well in the regionals? In his third year? Has he lost his focus? And it's been happening for ... Weeks? … and no one noticed? No, Coach has been cutting back on his training... But the times kept dropping. Just like …_   The phantom hurt in his chest intensified and he bit his lip hard, tasting blood. He glanced about for Coach Iwazaki and saw that he was still talking to Toudou-san. _Right_. He turned back to the record and tracked the dates back... _Practically the day since he stepped into the team_. And Sei too caught up in his internal misery to notice. _Well, I'm noticing now._

 

_What to do about it though?_

 

\-----

 

He found himself lingering over the logbook that recorded pool usage during off hours way longer than he should have, flipping the pages back through the days and weeks, pausing when he spotted Matsuoka's name. Which was often, contrary to the lower prescribed training load. Matsuoka's name appeared _every single day_ , sometimes even twice. Matsuoka had been logging in at least forty to sixty percent more pool time per week than scheduled, and more recently, clocking in a fantastic /hundred percent/ more pool time than scheduled over the past two weeks.

 

It was the same with the logbook of gym usage. Hours of extra training carried out by Matsuoka, much more than what he should be doing.

 

Matsuoka's times were dropping.

 

Matsuoka had no fucking concept of rest days.

 

Matsuoka was overtraining, against Coach’s orders, like he knew himself better, or something.  

 

_Just like Susumu._

 

Sei flinched as the wolves roiled in his chest, phantom pain made real. Dammit! Allowing himself to feel concern for Matsuoka, was to allow himself to feel for  _every-fucking-thing else_ , including all that had been unresolved between him and Susumu thus far. Could he handle it? He caught sight of the gym supervisor looking at him worriedly and realised he had been staring at the logbook with an unreasonably unpleasant expression (bared teeth and furrowed brows, wow) and hurriedly schooled his face.

 

 _For heaven's sake, get a grip, Sei!_  

 

He closed the logbook like he was closing the lid on his feelings, ignoring all the nights he had spent awake, thinking about what he _should've / could've_ done, breath coming much more easily when he remembered that he didn't feel because he didn't care. Or was it the other way around?

 

 _It's probably useless to try and help anyway_ , he thought. _Matsuoka's just like Susumu. In fact, he's a million times more stubborn and about a trillion times more driven. There's no way that single-minded organism would ever listen to me_.

 

_Not when /even Susumu/ had not._

 

\-----

 

 _'I can’t believe I’m here, '_ Sei thought morosely as he jogged up the stairs that led to the University Swimming Arena two at a time. ' _It's too damned early and it's too damned /cold/_.' He hunched himself into his jersey and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. His knuckles brushed against a key, cold metal, and he ran the ball of his thumb over its edge.

 

He studied the shark-tooth pattern on his sleeve as he pushed open the door to the natatorium. For some reason, he had worn his Samezuka jersey and trackpants today.

 

_For good luck._

 

 _Good luck?_  He blinked. _For him?_

 

He heard the a splash coming from the pool as he approached the natatorium.

 

Someone had just dived in. Someone was swimming. Someone…

 

Who was he kidding?

 

He had paid more attention to the log times than he'd thought.

 

He looked down to see Matsuoka Rin, problematic kouhai number one, swimming in the pool as if his life depended on it. Just... not very well.

 

 _His form was just *off*,_  Sei observed dispassionately, hands clenched in tight fists. The key bit into the flesh of his palm. _Stroke count not up to scratch, either. Probably fatigued as hell, but too proud to stop, too insecure to recover, and too blind to see what the real problem was. Even if he should know better.  And unlike Susumu, whose training regimen was different from ours, I definitely know what I'm looking at, right now._ _Overwork. Matsuoka needed a break, to rest, to condition, even if he didn't see it._

 

_Is that your excuse for Susumu though? The signs were there for all to see... You'd seen them too._

 

 _Ah, fuck. The wolves had woken up._  'Guilt' and 'Regret' broke into the locked box, tore the bleeding memories open and laid them all out before him again.

 

_He remembered Susumu encouraging him to swim, challenging him._

_He remembered Susumu Skyping him when he was in Samezuka and talking about their dreams for the future._

_He remembered Susumu being happy._

_He remembered meeting Susumu among the cherry blossoms on the first day of school._

_He remembered Susumu hopping awkwardly, always favouring one leg when he inexplicably stumbled._

_He remembered bumping into Susumu training in the gym alone when he was supposed to be benched by his coach._

_He also remembered the various arguments with Susumu over the summer;_

_'What, do sprinters not need rest days?’_

_‘Come the hell on, Susumu! It won’t kill you to take a break and celebrate your birthday, we even got you a cake and everything. All we’re missing is the birthday boy.’_

_‘Today’s Saya-chan’s birthday, you know.’_

_‘You look tired, are you getting enough sleep?’_

_‘Are you married to the track or something? Will she get jealous if you skip a day? Let’s go out, make some friends!’_

_‘Hey Susumu, did training just end for you too? Whoa! Are you alright? Here, lean on me for a bit. YOU'RE NOT OKAY, SHUT UP, I'M NOT BLIND. Does your coach know you’re injured this badly?’ , 'I'll report you to the Coach if you don't rest!'_

_‘WHY ARE YOU HERE? You can’t have recovered already?’_

 

 

_‘Haha, very funny. Don't worry, I took a break already!'_

_‘I’m not fast enough! I need to train more.’_

_'I can't skip training today. it's okay, she'll understand.'_

_'I'm fine? Maybe it's school.'_

_'You know me, I can't not run.'_ _‘My target is under 13 seconds for hurdles, you know.’, '_ _You swim, I run.’,_ _‘I placed third for hurdles. I’m not fast enough. I’M NOT FAST ENOUGH!’, 'I_ _didn't place for the hundred meters. I can't slack now. "_

_'I'm okay, get off. It's JUST a strain. STOP FUSSING!' _, 'DON'T YOU INTERFERE!’__

_'I'm just doing light training.' ‘I’m sorry, Seijuurou, but I know my limits, better than you. I *know* I can still run.’_

 

Yes, Susumu should know better than anyone on how to train for his specialty events. He remembered thinking that Susumu was fine, that everything would work out. He remembered that Susumu had always been prideful of his ability to run, and rightfully so, just like he was of his own ability to swim.

 

_(”Isn’t it great? This is the first time we’re competing at the same Games together.”_

_“Yeah! And you were amazing in your swim events! Four first placings! I won't lose to you, now!”)_

 

He remembered Susumu crashing into the first hurdle in his first event as his overworked Achilles tendon gave way. He remembered Susumu’s tears as he was carried off the track. He remembered Susumu pushing him away.

 

_“GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!”_

 

Fuck. Oh, fuck.

 

_Is this happening in front of me again!?_

 

A third wolf flared into existence in Sei's chest, burning and smoking, baring its teeth and full of fight.

 

_Hello,... ‘Anger’._

 

‘Anger’ turned on the resident grey wolves this time, bowling them over, chasing ‘Regret’ off, and sending ‘Guilt’ cowering in a corner.

 

‘Anger’ stood beside Sei, smouldering. Staring up at Sei. Staring down at Matsuoka. Refusing to leave.

 

 _Why would he listen to any advice I give?_ Sei asked rhetorically.

 

 _'Now’s your chance to teach about preventative care_ ,' ‘Anger’ snapped, surprisingly logical. What a surprise. ‘Anger’ usually wasn’t this coherent. ' _And why are you asking for a reason? You're *here*, aren't you? You care, don’t you?'_

 

He was startled out of his internal dialogue by a loud splash and an anguished, frustrated cry from below, loud and distorted in the natatorium. Matsuoka was leaning his head against the wall, his shoulders heaving, water weaving agitated ripples about him. Sei frowned. _He was crying. He was crying?_  

 

"Matsuoka?" He called out.

 

 _Blip!_ Matsuoka promptly submerged himself below the surface of the water.

 

Sei snorted as he made his way down the steps. What was he expecting, seriously? It reminded him of Momotarou, sulking and holding his breath underwater everytime he lost. Although...

 

 _Matsuoka wasn't trying to drown himself, was he? Wasn't it impossible to voluntarily suicide by drowning like this?_  Sei stared at the submerged, unmoving form and started to worry. _Don't do this to me, Matsuoka. I'm pretty damned lousy with CPR._

 

Sei was just about to dive in and fish the submerged boy out when Matsuoka started to move, then surface. _Thank God!_

 

Sei sat down on the starting block nearest to Matsuoka just as he surfaced, sputtering and shaking water out of his eyes. He looked down, noting the reddened eyes, the half-sobbing breaths, and wondered _how the hell_ to begin.

 

Surprisingly, Matsuoka started first. "Mikoshiba-senpai," he growled. "What do you want?"

 

Sei wanted to laugh. _Has Matsuoka ever called anyone 'senpai' before? This must be a first. And, yes, he was a goddamned 'senpai', wasn't he? Maybe Matsuoka would listen to some advice on that authority alone. Maybe._ He smiled down at Matsuoka, feeling a little bit encouraged. “I want to talk to you. Come out of the pool for a bit.”

 

Matsuoka made a face but complied, pulling himself out of the pool. Sei wondered if Matsuoka knew just how tired he was, to spend so much effort just getting out of the water.

 

While Matsuoka grabbed his towel and windbreaker and settled on the bleachers, Sei rallied his thoughts and began. “I’ve seen Coach’s records of your times. I know they’ve been dipping the past few weeks." Matsuoka stiffened. _Hey! I'm on your side!_ He tried to keep any hint of criticism out of his tone. "What’s worrying me is how you’ve been dealing with it. You’re clocking too many hours of unscheduled trainings and your times are suffering even more. Haven’t you heard of recovery time? You’re doing too much.”

 

Despite his even tone of voice, Matsuoka hunched in even more at the perceived criticism and looked away, towel hiding his face from Sei’s view. Sei had to strain his ears to hear him mumble, “I don’t feel like I’ve been overtraining. I feel like I’m doing too little.”

 

“Whatever you’re doing, your times aren’t improving.” Sei tried to point out reasonably, tactfully and subtly. “That means you’ve got to stop and rethink your approach.”

 

Matsuoka gritted his teeth, staring mulishly off to the side for long moments. Then, he stood up abruptly.

  
  
Sei narrowed his eyes.  “Where are you going?”

  
  
Matsuoka ripped the towel off his head, radiating defiance. “I’m going to swim," he snarled.

 

_Subtlety be damned!_

_Matsuoka, you stubborn, ignorant, MORON!_

 

(At least he could cross off that regret of 'If only I had spoken more reasonably to Susumu, he might have listened,' off the list.)

 

Still, Sei could literally feel the cross-shaped vein pop out on his forehead and it was a wonder he didn’t burst into flames like his angry wolf. For the first time in months, he felt strongly about something, _other than guilt over Susumu and useless anger at himself_ , he realised while staring at the angry, defensive, *beautiful* boy, _even if it was misguided concern over a cantankerous, stubborn and troublesome junior that didn't want to be helped._  

 

_Matsuoka's attitude screamed 'challenge', and Sei *always* rose to the challenge._

 

Fighting to keep his Captain-face firmly on, he stated as calmly as he could, “Nuh-uh, you’re not. You’ve been kicked out of the pool. And you’re not allowed into the gym.”

  
  
Matsuoka was outraged (what a surprise) and fairly shouted. “Huh?! You’re crazy! You can’t do that!”  
  


 

 _Shit, he lacked authority_ , Sei realised, somehow remaining regal and authoritative as he pulled his next words out of the air. “Not me, coach’s orders." He almost flushed, giving away the lie. "Any athlete knows that hitting a plateau, even a slump, is normal, but you’re not going to break out of it with all that negative energy you’ve got bottled in you right now. Coach says to take a day or a week off." Sei's conscience screamed at him. "Do something else. With me. ” He finished lamely.

  
  
Matsuoka stared at him in disbelief, angry and confused.

 

He's not going to buy it, Sei thought despairingly. All he has to do is talk to Coach and he'll find out... everything.

 

Help me, he begged whichever God might be listening. Could I make a difference? Please? I /really/ just want to help.

 

Someone must've listened, because Matsuoka blinked, mouth twisting. “But...," he whispered, "I don’t have anything else I want to do.”

  
Banzai! Sei yelled internally, guts twisting in disbelief. Matsuoka believed him!

 

And he hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. What was he going to do with Matsuoka?

  
He plastered a smile on his face and said the first thing that came to his mind.

 

“How about you learn how to dance in the meantime?”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read something about heartache being like wolves that tear at you, trying to get at your heart. Sei's wolves are 'Guilt', 'Regret' and "Anger'.  
> 'Anger' really just about attacks everything right now. 
> 
> Sei may seem OOC, but... he's really a hurting, confused 19-year old right now. 
> 
> battery bunny: The Duracell / Energizer / National battery bunny that was used in advertisements in the early 1980's (1983, according to Youtube)... that just kept going and going and going.  
> Sei probably wouldn't get the reference, since I peg his birth year at 1995.
> 
> Because swimmers spend so much time doing repetitive motions in a viscous medium like water that they'll never carry out on land, they might be clumsy when out of the pool (Think astronauts reacclimatizing to Earth's gravity after a long period of time in zero G), so sports physiotherapists in the National Team often customize dry-land and pool conditioning regiments to the different swimmers based on their specialties and outputs. I think Universities and colleges don't have such specialists in attendance, it's largely up to the lone coach to assess the readiness and health of the members. 
> 
> Sei's official hobbies other than swimming, are beach volleyball and tennis, both of which require agility and quick reaction times.


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